I Relish The Thought I'm A Survivor Poem by Mark Heathcote

As things are relaxed, and schools go back
our connections are clearer-defined
arrows on the floor; kids told don't-run-amok
walk-in concentric circles assigned.

As COVID becomes like a second cousin
one you don't know and never greet.
Yet, reminisce as a missed introduction
but realise paths still might one day meet.

We're all the same skin-deep, that's the punch-line.
I relish the thought I'm a survivor.
A key worker who worked on the frontline
I'm no black or white protest eulogizer.

When we're dead and buried, we're all the same.
You can test and trace the whole human race
Find a relative of an unfamiliar face.
A bloodline, you can't always ascertain.

A distant cousin dying of COVID wanting to live
wanting 'my good man' to give something back
'thank the Lord' for another ceaseless-day alive
-breaking with concentric circles to run amok.