a COVID-19 eulogy

Death does not care about your gender, race, ethnicity, or socio-economic status.

Death, like any virus, shapeshifts, mutates, and has superior intelligence.

Yet, it throws a more powerful blow to those disenfranchised.

The howls of grief from your loved ones sound the same.

Death to many is a reprieve from life, to others, it’s an oh fuck there’s so much more I have yet to do.

Its presence hovers.

There is a sense of knowing, either you surrender to it or fight it with every breath in your body.

It has a scent and even a face, a death mask called by some.

You warned us, you gave us time to prepare.

A collective ignorance won over the harsh reality of what was to come.

Death is a nanoscopic intruder and attaches itself to the ones we love.

This is a eulogy for the ones we were not able to touch, kiss, and say goodbye to.

Poem #28 of 28

*In Memory of Erica Watson, February 2021