I was a poet and didn’t know it…

My poem entitled “Then and Now”, written at the height of the Covid Pandemic, has been published in Ascensus, the Weill Cornell Medicine Journal of the Humanities. It’s an in-house publication, started in 2013 and run by medical students to showcase the humanities at our medical school.

I was privileged to give a reading of my poem at the Ascensus 11th edition launch reception last evening. It was a joy to be with so many artistically minded medical colleagues, whose works ranged from poetry to prose, photography, painting and music. A special shout out to Courtney Lee for her moving poem “Hoarder”, to Koianka Tencheva, whose poem “My Dowry” brought tears to my eyes and to med student J Lind , whose emotional song lyrics were backed by some serious geetar playing. (You can find more on Spotify…)

Congrats to the Ascensus editorial team for another great edition of this wonderful journal, and to all my colleagues on their submissions.

THEN AND NOW

Then 
We lived in sweet, willful ignorance.
Nanoscopic particles bent on our destruction existed, surely, 
But attacked predictably, and only once a year
Allowing us to plan and fortify
With protein shields delivered through ethanol swabbed skin.
Few fell
But those who did
Passed within the soft embrace of love
Untainted by fear. 

Then
We lived and moved in shared spaces
Breathing the same air, 
Voicing the same songs,
Touching without fear, 
Hands grasping hands, 
Arms linking arms, 
Lips grazing lips, cheeks, foreheads. 

Then 
We blithely squeezed together in metal tubes beneath the streets,
Lined up tightly in shared anticipation,
Marched shoulder to shoulder on grand boulevards,
Brushed past one another in narrow halls and passages and
Mingled sweat and smell in crowded theaters and packed arenas.

Now
We live in isolation, 
Faces masked and drawn,
Warily walking along emptied streets
Past boarded stores and vacant food halls. 
We line up uneasily,
Pass gingerly,
Stand separately
Love guiltily.

Now 
We live and move in fear
Of this new predator 
And of one another. 
Those among us who fall
(And there are many)
Do so alone
Or at best, 
Watched from afar by faces on blue lit screens,
Witnessed by swathed strangers
Who stroke limp arms through gloved hands 
And whisper words of comfort
That pass between layers of three-ply polymer
And ricochet off polyurethane shields.

Margaret Polaneczky 11/19/20