By Michael Polgar
Who will wash the dishes when the vaccines are all given?
Who will cart medical waste and where will it be driven?
Will the wake the virus makes be messy? We don’t know.
Just washing hands and masking up still leaves us far to go
If Covid were like rain we’d know that no one could ignore it.
If vaccine filled a river, we could drink it or could pour it.
The miracle of science is our great and liquid hope.
It’s helping us survive, or maybe simply helps us cope.
There is no end to challenges, pandemic in a surge.
The winter and the biohazard tragically merge.
Oh God, if you are merciful, please help our human race.
The present passes quickly. Keep us living in your grace.

About myself: Michael Polgar, PhD is a Professor of Sociology at Penn State University (US) and a father of three daughters.
Wonderful, so proud of you cousin!
I enjoyed reading your poem.