Prose poem

Prose poem
Napowrimo #6

I can’t go on, I’m exhausted, overwhelmed. It never ends this litany of woes, it’s been going for too long. It all started with Fires. Waking up only  to prepare the house and the property for one mega fire to raze down . It certainly took its toll of lives: human, Wild and domestic burnt to a crisp. Each day facing a new challenge. Our favourite programs were to  watch  the Victorian emergency warning messages and the Bureau of Meteorology bulletins. We were lucky, the fires didn’t eventuate in our district but we were all in alert even in towns, nobody felt safe.    The following flooding due to Esther brought an end to the fires, a cyclone as a blessing , ironic but true,  trash for someone is a treasure for somebody else. With it came the first wave of economic recession in the tourism industry, Australia ravaged by the fires did not inspire overseas travellers and the companies loss of trade meant for so many and friends losing their jobs , getting into debts, with no fault of their own. “Stiff upper lip” and “soldier on” , we Aussies are made of steel, the best in the world! They kept silent although screaming and crying inside their mind. By that time it really became personal with health problems catching up with me, after so many years.‘Twas but a shock to realise the severity of my case . The cure was drastic to say the least, felt like Alice at her trial with the red queen. The surgeon turned out to be but a butcher and I am scarred for life. While I was  drowning in self pity, the world started to wake up to a new order, to the pandemic world of COVID-19. Deaths galore became the norm on the news bulletins. I discovered I had won the lottery as I found myself on the top of the vulnerable list. Then the restrictions came marching in,Stay In, don’t visit your friends and family. No risk with the last one, the nearest is a thousand kilometres away while the rest are a world away. I have no idea if I will ever see them again. I fear not.   T’is ugly that so many see their world collapsing around them on two simple words: stay home. To add to this we find ourselves waiting for the next stage of rights  and freedom restrictions while trembling at the smallest sign of a sore throat and cough. Fear is a fierce tyrant !
My mind is reeling, what next? I ask, no one replies, for that’s the new order of isolation, silencing people.

Lucette C. Bailliet
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