I hesitate from putting up poems or other non-blog posts on this blog because it should be simply that. Additionally, you’re usually unable to publish something you’ve published elsewhere, even if that includes self-publishing on social media or a blog. But the following poem, for what it is, gives a good snapshot into my life now. And that’s what any good blog post should do.
Coronavirus is a pandemic now, which means it’s everywhere to some degree. It’s a good day to be a toilet paper manufacturer because it’s sold out—apparently it’s the stuff to get you through an apocalypse. People are unsure and scared.
My son has a slight fever; it’s likely nothing serious, but you never know. He saw a bear on a TV show days ago, and he asks about it and about monsters, at night when I put him to sleep and later when I wake him up mid-night to go potty. He wants me to assure him there are no monsters because he’s not sure there aren’t.
It’s the uncertainty that scares him.