AWAITING THE CORONAVIRUS, a poem by Tom Leonard

                                                   AWAITING THE CORONA-VIRUS

                                                                by Tom Leonard


                                                        Dedicated to Lindsay Oliver




                                                                        

                          The South Sea cannibal Queequeg awaited death

                          On the deck of the Pequod;

                          Righteous death from the big white whale

                          He'd harpooned in a grievous way;

                          When death struck, he clung on to the mast

                          As his ship to the depths descended,

                          While his young chum Ishmael like an eel

                          Wriggled away.


                           I await the corona-virus in my Bruchton flat

                           My chest constricted as if the flu of '18 has struck

                           The church organist now recovering from his bout.

                           Is it death that I await,

                           Or eternal solitude?

                           Maybe the Hereafter is better than

                           Disastrous planetary life.


                           But Ishmael must survive

                           To turn the tide

                           When the young save humanity

                           From its dire fate