Holiday Greetings for 2020

Somehow, it just doesn't feel like the Holidays. The main blame falls on COVID but the lack of snow here contributes to it, also. I will be back in mid-January after a break of sorts. Meanwhile, enjoy the Season the best that you can.

Holiday greetings for 2020

Hang high the holly, decorate the tree,

cookies to bake, friends to see.

But experts warn, "Not so fast

with travel plans or parties this Season."

The reason? COVID, of course.

But music and merriment still fill the air,

and promised vaccines are about to appear.

So, here's hoping your Holidays

will be bright, your weeks full of cheer,

and "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus . . ."

since certain people will stay away this year.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

On Hearing the Latest Stats of North American Birds

I recently heard scientists say the carbon in the atmosphere did not decrease one wit at the start of this pandemic when almost the whole world experienced weeks in lockdown. Though smog disappeared and mountains reappeared there was no measurable difference. I don't think I was alone in hoping for even the briefest of dips.

On Hearing the Latest Stats of North American Birds

Many years ago my friend

dreamt of silent skies and flyways,

                     and woke up sobbing.

Her Rachel Carson prescience

now plays out in real time.

This morning a robin scratching

for breakfast scatters lawn detritus

by himself.        A lone diner

                     in an empty eatery.

City lakes no longer beckon blue

herons and great egrets with waters

turned tanin.          The absence

                        of the cranes an ache.

The winds of the plains once carried

           the lilt of meadowlarks.

        Lately, the breezes sing solo.

But, maybe, in this time of lockdown

when the earth breathes

without inhaling human hubris,

and exposes mountains hidden

by smog, the scoldings of red-winged

blackbirds will assault my senses again.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

280,000 Dead and Counting

Coronavirus remains rampant in this country, and every day the number of those who die from the virus continues to climb at alarming rates.

280,000 Dead and Counting

Covid-19 deplaned in Seattle and deployed within an hour

of landing, jumping from one dupe to another in that hour.

Finally, it gained a foothold among vulnerable seniors

settled in assisted living. Wreaked havoc hour by hour

effectively smothering its targets by stiffening their lungs.

It didn't take long for this virus to move on, a matter of hours.

New York, top-heavy with the deaths of black, brown and older

souls cut down by Coronavirus, stacked their bodies on each hour.

The victims, old or young, healthy or not, dark-skinned or fair,

the bandwidth of life suffering without family in their closing hours.

Then cases shifted down South and out West. Many counted

on a new vaccine, but its swift release resided in Story Hour.

Next up for the virus - flyover country. Hard hats and die-hards

with a streak of bullheaded independence insisting, "It's our

right to refuse face coverings and social distancing," scarcely

recognizing these actions might lead to many more final hours.

Here in the midlands, I, Marilyn M., swear to mask, avoid peer

pressure and crowds even fatigued as I am by these endless hours.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Signs of the Season

Suddenly, I'm surrounded by not-so-subtle reminders of the upcoming holidays. Beyond the obvious twinkling lights and outdoor decorations are other things that nudge me to pay attention.

Signs of the Season

Catalogues jamming my mailbox.

Flour and sugar and chocolate

on sale at the same time.

Salvation Army Red Kettles.

Buys in cars sporting big bows.

Seasonal beers and coffee brews.

"Toys for Tots" drop-off points.

An increase in Fed Ex and UPS 

trucks cruising the streets.

Sweets for the taking or making.

Tempting deals on cashmere 

for myself.

Our money tree plant casually

relinquishing its leaves.

Must be Christmastime.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor