MARCH 11 2020: A SONNET

Shall I recall the final normal day? It dawned a Wednesday morning bright and clear. The day began with friends and bridge to play Some winning, loosing, chatting and good cheer. We stopped at Kingsway Garden Mall for lunch, The food court proffered Julius and fries. I bought a purse, the cheapest of the bunch I’d get another if I’d been unwise. Two friends and I crooned trios by the bed To comfort one whose death was close at hand, And then I packed a bag for days ahead To be with sisters on a visit planned. Free day to go and do whate’er we chose. I say! When will we next have one of those?

REFLECTING ON THE FOOD SUPPLY

REFLECTING ON THE FOOD SUPPLY IN COWBOY POETRY He was sittin at the table chewin on a fine T-bone. There was steak sauce on his moustache. He was eatin all alone. He was ponderin the feedlots with their twenty thousand head; Of the workers touchin shoulders and the virus that they spread. He was thinkin bout the butcher shop his daddy used to run, Sides a-hangin in the cooler when the weekly kill was done. You had paper wrapping everything the labels writ by hand And you knew exactly who you fed and what they would demand. There was oxtail in the supper plans and soup bones on the bubble. The kidney, heart and liver sold without a moment’s trouble. It was shortribs for Elvira Jones and chuck for Elsie Gable. Verna Parker took a tender roast to serve on Sunday table. You could drive out to a farmer’s place and there conduct a meetin With the farmer who provided and the steer you’d soon be eatin. There are some who say they’re satisfied with tofu nuts and soy But it takes a juicy steak to feed a grateful good old boy.