It’s Not War, it’s Sickness

It’s Not War, it’s Sickness

All these fat old white men talking about a war on Covid-19 is making me irritable.

It’s not war, it’s sickness.

Viruses don’t hide out in trenches, send out scouts or submarines.

You can’t carpet bomb a virus, or snipe it, or stick it in an internment camp.

You can’t negotiate a cease fire, treaty or repatriation.

When you get sick, you rest. You drink soup, take naps and seek out hugs.

Right now, there are a lot of unhappy people about. And we can’t really blacme them.

They want to get back to a normal life. Yesterday would be ideal.

Though I hope that some of the changes I’m seeing last a little longer.

Like people giving way to each other in the Supermarket. And expressing concern for the welfare of those less fortunate than them. Shopping locally.

Cooking real food at home. Spending family time together. Talking, not texting.

And maybe, a greater tolerance for uncut hair, less formal clothing and disagreement.

So let’s enjoy this period of stillness and introspection. Chances are when you come out the other side, and things get back to normal, you’ll miss it.

Not War

This lovely picture is a WWI postcard (c. 1914 – 1918) of Paris. The painting is by Oscar Wilson (1867 – 1930). Part of the “Our Fair Allies” Series (#1014) issued by Inter-art Co via State Library Victoria.

See more of my Haiku here.

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