Personal Hero

The only flesh and blood I see
each night and morning,
who I can still embrace
and kiss his funny fuzzy face,
leaves the house early each day.

He’s not what you’d call a life saver,
he’s not on the front line,
but his contributions are real,
helping the country stay warm,
boil kettles and cook meals.

He calls whenever he can
to make sure I’m still sane –
he understands that writing
and family video calls
help me stay that way.

At the end of the day,
my personal hero
is a supermarket hunter-gatherer,
shopping for groceries prudently
and coming home to me.

Kim M. Russell, 30th March 2020

My response to Earthweal Weekly Challenge: Flattening the Curve

Sherry has reminded us of the havoc the corona virus is wreaking across the world with some grim statistics – not that we need reminding. As poets, we’ve been writing about it for as long as we’ve been aware of it.

For our challenge, we are writing about whatever aspect of this issue speaks to us: self-isolation, social distancing, fear of contagion. Or we might write about our increased awareness of our interconnectedness, and how people are rising to the challenge, showing the best side of all we can be, particularly any heroic stories.

This morning, I don’t want to be profound, just honest and thankful. I’d like to add that, while I keep the house clean and tidy, he does most of the creative cooking and is now experimenting with delicious oatmeal cookies. No picture, as I don’t want to embarrass him! 

12 thoughts on “Personal Hero

  1. I’m that scavenger for our house — my wife worries about hotspots in grocery coolers — though I sure could use some poetry by way of thanks for the glum puddings I scrounge … Thanks Kim — Brendan

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I like this. We all have our personal, unsung heroes. I had to smile as I have someone too who likes to go out and get food. Yesterday I yelled at him because he plopped milk, etc. on the counter without sanitizing. I’m turning into a clean freak, that which writers seldom are. Then I had to make up.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “The only flesh and blood I see
    each night and morning,
    who I can still embrace . . . ” I love this tribute and verbal hug. I might wish for a photo, too, but understand its absence, and understand from the comments how others realize their own hunter gathers are heroic too. A photo might limit that effect. Still . . . This poem is precious. I am my own hunter gatherer, and ought to lift that up with courage and kindness to myself. Yes. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

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