Unceasing Toll
Free verse on the ravages of the pandemic
cacophony of daily street life
silenced by a commanding thrum
thoughts freeze,
slip back into
memories
of the deaths,
the grief
that hovers
just beneath
the mundane
it beats again, and again,
falls into a rhythm
hard, ruthless, imposing
thoughts shred to mist
hearts race to throat
primal fear wrings
air from lungs
the drums rage;
the plaintive call
razes the walls
we thought could
withstand tsunamis
cassandraic visions
of our own mortality
overwhelm
the corners of eyes
mere prey, we wait
huddled inside
for silence
for deliverance
the beat slows,
air loses its solidity,
relief beckons
and is shattered…
another drum
screams,
another death
tolls its burden
nameless grief
carves itself a place
into quotidian rhythms
as the drums volley
ceaselessly…
© Indira Reddy 2021