I was told I must stay home, because I’m old and vulnerable.
I thought myself a bit reclusive
so I didn’t mind.
Ten days went by. I felt restless, not reclusive after all.
The pharmacy called, my prescription is ready.
A sunny morning drive was just the thing,
up the hill a couple of miles, no traffic on the road.
I walked across a vacant parking lot,
through open doors, where stood a young lady
with nervous eyes above the mask that looked
as though it stifled her.
Into the clinic, straight to the pharmacy window,
I collected the meds, and drove again, down the hill.
Now I’m in my chair, looking out at the trees,
thinking to walk in the afternoon.
My morning venture plays on my mind,
the girl in the doorway asking sweet questions
about how I feel, warm voices at the window.
I’m so glad I made the little journey.
Then thinking about paying with my card –
I had to sign my name – and I picked up the pen –
I touched the pen!
April 2020
A Thorley Poet 