Not the way,
anyone wants to go,
reading newspapers-
morgues filled with COVID-19 
and it is leaving us blue,
holding onto memories of summertime,
listening to the song too,
left us thinking this is not the way to go,
an invisible enemy creeping down 
side streets and through family doors,
as if it lived on its own, wanting to 
invade us and take control,
that is not the way to go,
fear overcoming some
leaves others watching windows
wondering- will this go away, 
just go away so that we can go back
to dancing in the moonlight with 
the people we love, can we just live our way?
and the reality hits that maybe 
this moment in our lives, 
will make us value the true lovers,
the true livers of life, the ones who 
even in the pandemic triumph in their dreams,
who fight to hang on to them and to make them come true,
- that's the way to go,
blazing a trail through the dreams we thought
we could not make so
instead of fear we fought
not to let go- now, that's, that's the way to go.
By Melinda Cochrane

a daughter stands in front
of her parents below a balcony 
smiling at them, 
making jokes to see  
the happiness in whatever may come,

​mothers, sitting wondering 
if her children are being safe
with gloves and loving them wearing
masks before remembering a time of washing a face,

a son calls, why didn't you answer,
you made me worry, where did you go?
telling them to sit still and become a dancer
in their living rooms for a little lung flow,

men arrive at the windows 
of women they love, holding 
bags of food while in their soul grows
a quiet unheard moment of longing,

amateur musicians perform,
singing over cities savaged by COVID-19,
loving people who cry in the storm, 
songs reminding them a night did 
pass in the shining warm,

​and as we pass on from one day 
to another, we gently are reminded 
that love in quarantine will stay
to hold us as we are united 
in a hope for God's mercy to take this away.
By Melinda Cochrane

I woke up a little earlier than usual. Well, to be truthful, a lot earlier than usual. Three in the morning was way too early. I was energetic but lethargic at the same time as if the waiting for normalcy to return after COVID-19 to my daily routine was draining me. I put on the coffee and sat working at my table. I stopped and stared out my window waiting for the darkness from the night before to leave. Then as if time was whispering to me, I saw a reflection I hadn’t seen before in the mirror from the hallway. I don’t know why I placed it so close to the dining room table. I tried to look away from it but it seemed to chase me with its taunting reminder. I defied this reflection. In front of me as if begging for attention, there it was, the grey in my hair. It was startling to see the silver poking through the brunette. I went for a closer look in the mirror, and then as if I hadn’t heard it before, life seemed to knock at my door. I had forgotten it was there. I moved into to have a closer look at the silver traces of time. 

To be continued. 

​

I went outside before the world was awake to take a walk. The streets were quiet, quieter than they usually are. There were no cars passing by with people going to work. No one was rushing to meet any clock. The pandemic seemed to silence even the trees around me. I could hear only my footsteps on the cement. The birds were out and in the silence I heard them sing, singing as if to tell me that despite our lockdown the earth was experiencing a steady peace within it. I took the long route with a hill, a hill I jogged and walked when I needed to find an extra reserve of strength. We all have something we do when we need energy and positivity.  It is important to lean on these things to build our optimism through COVID-19. ​This was what I learned from my morning walk. I realized that we need to stay hopeful and the more we are the more positive reaches others who may need it.  

Stay strong and positive- we can do this. 

I opened the door. I searched the outside from within the frame of my home, I saw no one. Nothing. I didn't go outside but stood waiting, waiting for something to tell me about the secrete, which filled my morning. It was cool outside with slight drops of rain watering the day in preparation for the arrival of flowers popping up out of gardens and pots adorning balconies.  Then as if it was taunting me, I heard it. Was he or she knocking on the neighbour's door too? What kind of person scared people like this during a pandemic? I leaned out to catch a glimpse of the intruder. But, as if it was looking for a quiet shelter, in full flight a little sparrow hit the front window of my home. I knew the source of my morning awakening. Then it turned around as if to mock me and flew pass me to the inside. I chased the sparrow trying to guide it toward the outside again. It refused to give in. It refused to stop flying. I stopped and watched it sitting on the top of a decorative moulding in my living room. Its small eyes gazing at me reminding me that it was never going to give up. We looked at one another for some time. Standing in the COVID-19 silence, it sitting about to take flight, both of us determined not to give in to the fear of never being free of this moment in both our lives. Walking toward the front door, it followed me. Then as if it wanted to say goodbye it fluttered about in front of me.

Then as if it never knocked on my door, it flew away. Just like that it flew away. 

I listened again and this time it grew louder. I was frozen between wanting to go forward and the fear that held me back. I imagined it was important. A trepidation set in that something was wrong with a family member. I walked toward the door as if the path in front of me marked the beginning of things that would change my life forever. Each step I took forward led me to think about the life I had before. Would it ever go back to normal? I heard it again as I walked closer to the front door. A sound that seemed to define my very existence in the silence. 

A knock at the door.

Walking slowly as if in a black and white film with no sound. I recalled the last conversations I had with my children. Did they know I loved them? I fell back on the memories of events passed to give me the strength to move toward what was unknown, to what I feared and to what I wanted to go away. The walls with paintings rained over me as I walked from the shadows of my early morning sleep. It felt as if the steps I took were through a history of wars our generation had never taken before. I imagined families hearing about soldiers this way. The paint began to chip off the walls in my home and with each imagined peeling I saw nothing but the answers ahead of me. 

I reached the front door and without thinking I pulled the door open. 

I didn't move from the bed. I listened intently for the sound. Nothing. I sat up in bed and pulled on a sweater. Sitting up was an effort after a sleepless night.  I opened my bedroom curtains to see if anyone was outside, nobody. Nobody seemed to be awake in their homes. I sat back down on my bed. Maybe the isolation was getting to me. I felt a certain level of anxiety as I was used to controlling the things around me. I could not control the course of COVID-19, but what bothered me the most was I could not control the way it was affecting me. Being off from work as a receptionist at a small furniture company left me applying for my first unemployment check.  At fifty-five I was never in this position. I was also worried about my two children, married and living in Toronto. Video chatting with them didn't relieve this worry. 

I made my bed. The floral bedspread seemed to cheer me up with its small delicate trace of purple and blue hues. After making the bed I got dressed. I needed a coffee. I caught a glimpse of a photo of a trip we'd taken as a family, and suddenly as if waking me from my memories, I heard it again. 

A knock at the door.