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Poem by Dr Amy Codling (YLS)
As Kate Clancy writes, in her book 'Grow Your Own Poem': 'Writing a poem takes a lot of confidence. You have to believe that you and your experience belong in a poem...' I believe that (in very recent history) there is no other time more worthy for a person to express in the form of poetry, than that of their experiences of living through the COVID-19 pandemic . The poem I am sharing outlines some of my own personal experiences from January 2020 to 2021 and I look forward to hearing yours.
Some Poetry about the Pandemic
At the turn of a new year,
Something started creeping in.
At first glance, it appeared to be nothing to fear:
‘Just a miner breakout in a far-off land, I hear’.
I turned to reach for my Husbands hand.
Then it started to touch closer counties,
Lands not so far away, across the shore.
Then it was no longer abroad.
First thoughts turned to those with little hands, and fingers tips,
- but it was soon discounted that they were much at risk.
It was the older, wiser ones, with vulnerabilities;
- with that news, it was time to make a cup of tea!
I hope it doesn’t touch my Mother!
(Oh! How much I love her!)
Or my Husband, who is big and brave,
Who had asthma as a child, and nearly passed away.
The following year, it started out bold,
I lost my Grandma, who was 102 years old,
- born in Glasgow during the last one, in January 1919, in the snowy cold.
Then an Auntie hospitalised,
She almost died!
We’re grateful that she’s still alive.
She says she’s never felt so ill!
How many other stories like mine could be told?
(Or worse still?)
Every day - during that bleak winter time,
I thought about how lucky I am.
To have family near,
a job I hold so dear.
Others have not fared so well, I fear.
My hope is I that we are lucky enough to take this time,
As an opportunity for humanity to take a deep reset,
To a take a rest and to unwind;
Maybe to create new things
- like a little rhyme?!
I dedicate this poem to my Grandmother (1919-2021)