by Anna M. Evans
We’ve canceled March. There’ll be no sport;
Broadway’s dark; most classes taught
will be online; at Disneyland
the gates are locked; large groups are banned
from gatherings of any sort.
The shops are bare because you’ve bought
your toilet paper. Now, you’re fraught,
keeping your distances, as planned.
We’ve canceled March.
Each cough is evidence you’ve caught
the virus! Each fresh news report
alarms you. Still, we’ve made our stand—
this plague can’t get the upper hand—
so we’ve invoked our last resort
and canceled March.