October Daffodils Poem by anais vionet
October Daffodils
Eight months since the virus shut the door on the world.
It's October and it's like we're hiding from the law.
You called me yesterday - but it quickly wore off.
Sometimes crushing hungers, for our old normal blossom
but wither, like confused daffodils, denied sustenance,
in the reality of "second waves" and body counts.
This renewed viral spiral has me all wrung out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 10:29:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Anais, this is a sincere poem of grief. The tone is not desperate or even angry; the ancient word " eligiac" describes it well. Your poem comes from heart-depths with consolation, not fear. It's another surprise to me, and a moral lesson. Your poem says to me: Don't be paralyzed by covid in your soul. Your body is vulnerable but your soul is free. In this poem you speak for all of us. and I feel strengthened by your voice.