Covid At Christmas. Poem by David Wood

Her hospital bed was crowded,
Machines beeped impatiently
With pregnant anticipation.
She lay attached to various tubes.
From under a ventilator
the soft sound of laboured breath.

Two weeks ago a happier time,
A time of hugs and kisses
Kisses with love from the family.
A time of lasting happiness
If only for the one day.
A time of sweet Christmas hope,
Of gifts, fun and laughter.

Now, in the cold January morning
Where only robins sing, and the earth
Is covered with the dark cape of winter,
The cold earth to become her final resting place.
The true cost of Covid Christmas
For the unwary, the unlucky and
All those denying that Covid is real.
A too higher price to pay.