Mia sits idly on her bouncy castle, on the day
she should have made her First Holy Communion, her face in her palm as she curses how no one will see the dress she had chosen
Tony cuts his grass daily, walks the length and breadth of the town, sometimes twice, to keep his fragile mind occupied, aching for the day he can return to work
Maria spends hours disinfecting her house, nervous to venture too far, hand gel and masks her armour,the news channels stuck on repeat, her mind a flurry of scenarios and what-ifs
Mikey is thrilled his Leaving Cert is cancelled, hated school, never studied, now wondering what the teachers who told him he’d make nothing of his life, will bestow upon him, and decide a future he’s determined to place in his own hands
Eddy is meeting the lads for a sly can and joint, contemplating the cost of everything he had cancelled, his wedding, his honeymoon, Liverpool winning the Premiership, as he exhales, he sighs ” a nightmare, utter nightmare ” and ducks his head down as a Garda car drives past
Trish is supposed to be cocooning but she’s been out and regularly does her shopping with little fuss or fear, every night, she’ll sit by the wireless with a glass of stout, and laments the days when people had it tougher
Mark is heartbroken, remembering the day he left his mother off at the nursing home, he returns to collect her belongings, mourning his loss, and how she deserved a bigger send off, and how proud she would have been as the neighbours applauded her final journey
Mary hopes the restrictions lift, Barry hopes his depression will lift, Betty hopes she can see her grandkids soon,
Hopes and fears, anger and tears, been nothing like it in years, everyday the virus veers
Six feet apart, rather than six feet under
………
Wayne Power is a spoken word artist and poet based in Waterford