A year on now from the first onslaught
By the invisible enemy that can’t be fought
By normal means or clapping hands
Or sealing ourselves from other lands
Sometimes it seemed like no progress was made
We were digging for victory with a broken spade
Perhaps though now we will defy the odds
The fickle will of random evil gods
With science now turned to beneficial use
Our hope lies in the vaccination queues
Stephen A. Roberts
