For several weeks, Westporters Larry Gastwirt and his wife Sylvia de Lange have been “stranded” at their winter home in Naples, Florida.
It sounds nice. But beaches, parks and outdoor facilities have been closed for a month. Restaurants are shut; only supermarkets, pharmacies and a few essential businesses are open. “Many older people (we included) have groceries delivered,” he says.
Some private golf courses are operating, under strict conditions: no touching the flag pole or cup, no rakes in bunkers, no ball washers.
However, the weather is beautiful.
Larry spends his time writing poems. He shares them with “06880” readers.
Romance in the Time of Social Distancing
There once was a couple romantic,
Till Covid-19 drove them frantic;
Though he pledged her his heart,
They stay 6 feet apart,
Restricted to contact semantic.
This drives him apoplectic,
And she’s becoming dyspeptic;
They’re stranded in Naples,
Searching for staples,
Along with hand-wipes antiseptic.
Can their ardor survive this caper?
Or is it beginning to taper?
They’ve turned down the fire,
And sublimated their desire,
In the quest for toilet paper.
While physically they can’t cavort,
They’re successfully holding the fort;
But if they don’t cuddle soon,
They’ll forget how to spoon,
They can’t wait to get home to Westport!
Since Covid-19 has filled us with dread,
Cultural norms have been turned on their head;
Staying apart, such an asocial thing,
Is lauded as “social” distancing.
Handshakes became fist-bumps, now they’re through,
Even elbow taps are taboo;
The comfort of a warm embrace
Is a memory we must erase.
Greeting neighbors in the street
Used to be a daily treat;
Its demise we now are witnessing,
A casualty of “social” distancing.
I haven’t even mentioned kissing,
Another norm that’s sadly missing;
Our natural impulses we must block,
The epitome of culture shock.
I yearn for the day I can be a free man,
When I’ll be able to hug and kiss again;
When the world can safely say good riddance
To the aberration mis-named “social distance.”