On my permitted journey to the shop
I saw a hearse pause at the traffic light
It took me by surprise, and so I stopped
And stared, although it felt so impolite.
The wreath against the window, pink and white
Blooms spelling NANI. Rich Arabic letters
On cloth draped on the coffin. Was this sight
A glimpse how things will be, or of better
Times now vanished, times when we could let a
Family mourn together? One man gazed
At nothing, in the front. His mouth was set:
A grim, thin line. His eyes unblinking, glazed.
I don’t know whether Nani had Corona,
But either way, her loved ones weep alone.
Tom Juniper Poetry 