I Feel Fine. A poem by Martin Stepek

Yesterday too,
I felt fine
and all the days before that
For years I’ve felt fine.

My neighbour
two doors up,
an ambulance driver,
is ill at home with it.
His wife and two young kids are fine.

My Aunt Frances,
100 years old,
died last Friday.
Not Covid.
I had to tell everyone,
not Covid,
because unless you say this
everyone expects everything bad
to be because of Covid.

Her funeral is on Wednesday.
Maximum of ten people
brief burial service
to be streamed to those who loved her.
Hymns and eulogy recorded,
ready to be played at the cemetery
or afterwards.

I’m awash with stats
I clap hands every Thursday
I feel fine
I know I am one of the lucky ones

My grandmother died of starvation
in 1942
She was 39.
We’ve been here before.

It’s our turn.
Our generation’s time.


Author of ten books, six on mindfulness, four volumes of poetry. Born in Cambuslang, lives in Hamilton. More info here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *