How quickly our perspective changes;
Like fighting children on the playground
arguing over insolent remarks;
Now lined up before the school master
waiting to be disciplined;
Wondering if // and when…
How hard // or how little?
Who even remembers
what the fuss was about?
When we are facing the chalk board
with our life written on it
our past…
our present…
our future…
For now the plague has come.
We all are Egyptians
with no blood on our doorposts;
Waiting to see
if the death angel
will pass us by…
And when this dark night is past
we have a Red Sea to cross.
The promised land awaits
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
At d’Verse, Bjorn asked us to face our present reality of quarantine along with our reflection of past epidemics and the Black Plague of years gone by. Today we are writing a poem using the prompt plague!
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com