Covid’s Poetic Foot Note

Dear Reader,

I don’t claim to be a poet, and I make no apologies for what my brain dispenses after midnight, Pacific Standard time.

If you enjoy this piece, please feel free to share. I tried to keep hyper- links to a minimum. I also tried to share (eventually) some of the hope that I see for California, as I know that She will soon free herself from the kleptocracy that is currently masquerading as a democracy.

If you don’t see the hope I speak of, at first glance, (and you probably won’t, as I’ve always been a bit long winded) please continue to read the poem. I promise it’s there:

In a long ago time

And far away place

Lived a Lady

In coveted lace

For what she knew

She hid in shame

When far too few

Would shoulder blame

She had the grace

And She had the sense

To see the horror

Of Trump and Pence

She saw the future

Beyond repair

She saw generations

Bereft and bare

Bereft of a legacy

Of life and wealth

And any chance

Of retaining health