By Duane Anderson
Still the Odd One
I was one of the odd ones,
church members who were only allowed
to attend services on odd Sundays,
the first and third Sunday of each month
based on the first letter of our last name.
It was nothing new for me,
I had always been considered an odd one,
but my church finally confirmed it
upon opening up again after
being shut down for live services
from a coronavirus hiatus for over a year.
I get to go to church party time now,
but maybe it was best that I didn’t go at all.
Half the time, I was worth saving,
the other half, there was no chance of redemption.
Still the odd one, now reconfirmed.
Hugless Phone Calls
It was just another ordinary phone call, one of
those hugless phone calls where one could talk
to a loved one, but could not touch to give them a hug,
and driving for a visit wasn’t an option each
time I wanted to talk to my mother,
not being a hop, skip, and jump away.
The complex where my mother lived,
finally opening their gates after being
in a coronavirus lock down mode for a year.
I made the trip for a long overdue visit,
giving her multiple hugs each day of my visit,
one to greet her, another when I left.
The hugs will come again, but for now,
I tell her I love her over the phone,
as I imagine giving her a hug one more time.
Duane Anderson currently lives in La Vista, NE, and volunteers with a non-profit organization as a Donor Ambassador on their blood drives. He has had poems published in The Pangolin Review, Fine Lines, The Sea Letter, Cholla Needles, Tipton Poetry Journal, Poesis Literary Journal and several other publications.
I usually don’t write about current events, but during the coronavirus pandemic the past year, I couldn’t help but not writing about it since it was always on the news. Though I personally did not get the virus, I knew a few that did, and I wore the mask this past year and followed the other safety protocols. About a fourth of the poems I wrote last year were about the pandemic, and thought I had gotten out of my system, until things slowly started opening up again, and I wrote two more poems about my experiences with that, and that is what these two poems are about.