What Rough Beast | Covid-19 Edition | 04 06 20 | Emily Winters

Emily Winters
Beware the Nineteen

Perhaps it all seems slightly tainted; truly, only humanity could open its doors
to panic and selfishness and dishonor
in the form of rolls of paper and chemical fluids that have since soared away—
but in the mass collaboration of fear and entitlement, surely a one-hit-wonder,
the birds still fly.

Many find hope between the fragile lines of desperate isolation
and even daring to breathe at all—
but always, magically, there comes a moment when one finally cannot tell
if the use of antibacterial sanitizer is for that of combating germs,
or simply just combating fear.

The headlines are plastered around the world, elegantly printed:
Beware the Nineteen, Take Covid Action, Don’t You Dare Step Outside—
no one shall gather, and now,
suddenly, a society that used to exist profoundly
must now learn to exist ever so quietly, daring never to breathe.

Still, slowly, as humanity holds its breath,
there seems to be a bittersweet knowledge that this is not yet the first
and this is not yet the last—and finally,
a quietly haunting comfort that above all devastating isolation and impending chaos,
the birds will continue to fly.

—Submitted March 20, 2020

This is the first publication for Emily Winters. She is the winner of the 2018 Literary Citizenship Award and the 2019 Forrest Preece Young Authors Award, both from The Library Foundation in Austin, Texas.

SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.

If you enjoyed today’s poem and you value What Rough Beast, consider making a donation to Indolent Books, a nonprofit poetry press.