The Fox

In the bus, people spoke about Covid-19.
Like swarms of sardines swirling round
And round the black-blue shadow
Of the sea to reach the light, I imagined
Distant queues self-distancing in shopping
Malls before gaining the daylight outside.
In the bus, adolescents talked about
Masquerades, giggled, and laughed.
Then, unexpectedly, we heard the screeching
Brakes as the bus halted in the middle
Of a natural reserve. Through the large
Windows we saw a majestic red fox
With a fur of amber gold crossing the strait
Road in the wan winter light, its torso
And long bushy tail all tainted in off white;
Its pointed ears and taut snout were alert.
Animals that keep a sylvan vigil in the forest
Move, hide, and hunt, sometimes uncloak
Themselves warily. Separated by a verge
From the bland gray asphalt road it traversed,
The guileful and shrewd eyes of the fox shone
Like children’s agate marbles vying to target
Other marbles. Amazed at its beauty
I scrutinized the fox’s heedful steps
As it entered the dark green fir forest
Heaved before us as an alpine totem.


 Self-shielded

Like Perseus shielded by Medusa’s
Reflection we may be shielded
By our own selves as we self-confine.

Our faces may become the mirror-shields
Of our narcissistic desires and greed.
Our imagination may overflow with protean

Fantasies that can turn against us the way
Perseus killed the Medusa with her reflection
On his silver shield. Rendered vulnerable
By the crisis, the severed head he held is ours.

Medusa-like will we turn others into stone
In our self-isolation seeking our own blight?
Or in the tide of ripened self-reflection
Will we find our place beyond inequity?

The Bell

Like tattered flags blown by a tempest
Our link to the animal kingdom is severed
By a greed-knife sharper than the sheath
Meant to contain it. The virus that came

Through bats imprisoned in iron cages
Imprisons us, in turn. Corralled as if by water
We have become as distant archipelagos
Ignoring that each choking breath vanquishes us.

Despite Donne’s warning that no man
Is an island but part of the continent
We became as islands strayed on the main

Unheeding the bell that would kill the bat
Would kill us, too, unheeding of our reciprocal
Breaths, unheeding that the bell tolls for us all. 

Tatters

Through the tatters of our greed
the virus clung to our lungs, congested

our breath. Through our animal longings
through bats, rabbits, and pangolins

sold in hermetic blood-markets for food
and drugs, the virus clogged our vital

exchange with the world. Like the first
humans, we are barren, our frayed

clothes quarantined with disrespect.

[submitted on 6/9/2020]