Pandemic Poem a Day, Day Five

 

FAMILY REUNION AND THE PANDEMIC

 

December, before she died on Christmas Eve,

my cousin Nancy called Sally and me  

to promise the Kendig Reunion would still

happen on the Fourth of July as it has

for decades. Yes of course, of course. 

By the first of June, we were stricken

off course, two balls hit into a bog.

The promise and the plague. And us, sinking.

We took the penalty and put off play

till Labor Day. We no longer labor

with that metaphor, now plan to punt.