This poem came from watching way too much dire Coronavirus news. And, simultaneously, watching the nation’s appalled reaction, to a picture of a Florida beach on the Duval/St. Johns county line.
Supposedly taken just a few days ago, it showed the Duval side, to the North, empty. This was because the Jacksonville mayor had ordered the closing of the Duval beaches (Jacksonville and Duval County being one and the same.)
On the St John’s side to the south, however, beach-combers continued to frolic. The crowds were so thick, that you could actually see the county line drawn in people, lined up perpendicular to the water’s edge.
To St John’s credit, this stretch of beach is also now closed. But the state remains a patchwork of edicts and ordinances, some tough and some lenient, causing other states and countries to point and stare. This is not the first time Florida has been mocked. But I can’t think of another time, since the 2000 presidential election re-count, in which Florida has been subject to such intense and well-deserved ridicule.
Our state continues to be a mix of those, who are taking this pandemic seriously, and those who are not. And even among those who take it seriously, at every level, there is a profound difference of opinion as to how much government intervention is enough.
I just hope they get it together, before it’s too late. Stay safe and take care of yourself and those around you. Thanks for stopping by to read.
Oh, must we be the laughingstock,
The laughingstock, again?
Though no one should be laughing now,
As I take up my pen.
Our beaches, crowded, Southside;
Empty, Northside, County Line;
Our blocks, packed full of revelers,
Imbibing beer and Wine.
Spring Break, truncated (here and there)
And so, immune from Death,
The kids drive home, hitchhikers,
Microscopic, on their breath.
The state looks to the Governor,
The Governor to the Prez,
He mimics His inaction,
And endorses, what He says.
And meanwhile, seniors shaking,
Seniors shaking, in their shoes.
There’s nothing to be gained by this,
And oh, so much to lose.
Copyright 2020 Andrea LeDew
For an essay about another of Spring’s pleasures, the garden, read Spring Forward.