Now there are one hundred and seventy thousand souls
In this country who have died of coronavirus 19.
In March it was one hundred thousand and in
July it was one hundred and fifty thousand.
The number just keeps growing.
Almost all died without being able to say goodbye.
So I imagine them now in a vast arena of the dead,
Each given the opportunity to speak,
Angels moving among them encouraging the
Reticent and shy—telling each that for the
Dead there is always plenty of time to say
What is on your heart. At night under the stars
Listen carefully and in the whisper of wind
You may hear what they would want us to remember.
– Barbara Maniha
