Poetry: Hay Fever

Alaina Bush wrote ‘Hay fever’ after visiting her dying grandfather last spring and having to be careful because of COVID-19. Graphic Joey Bruce

i creep

through the kitchen

out the back door

to sneak outside.

she’d be scared if she saw but


you see me sneeze 

through the window pane...

while you watch your reflection decay


unsure if you saw me, i wave

a rotting hand moves back in pain

back inside we share a smile

it might be the last one for a while


we have to face the fact that

you’ll die soon; the best part of you…

is what betrayed you.


i weep

on the drive back home

my tears flood the street; you’re just bones. 

remembering how you’d hold me when i was small

isn’t grief the biggest sign of love of all?