The last things I did before the world changed We went to eat Hot Pot on Buford Highway And ran into an acquaintance who said Business was down on that strip Because of the outbreak in China. Then there were the marathon trials I watched with a friend on February 29th in Atlanta. There was an outbreak in Italy then. In the US, it was spreading, But we didn’t know the extent Because of our problems with the tests, And because our president was lying to us, Telling us it would disappear. “Covid-19” my friend said while we stood on the Sidelines of the race, And I remember the way a tremble Rolled down my spine. I should be worried I thought, But we were still nearly two weeks away From that day in March when everything was canceled. We were still being told it wasn’t a problem That travel bans would keep us safe 180,000 deaths later and here we are.
*I drafted this poem on August 29, and I believe my 180,000 statistic is accurate for around that date. Currently, it’s September 16th, and the death count is closer to 195,000.
Sarah Zureick-Brown 