My name is James Crews, and I live on part of an organic farm in Shaftsbury, Vermont, with my husband. My "Dear Vaccine" poem is about when he and I woke up about 4 a.m. to sign up to get the first dose of our first vaccine.
Dear Vaccine
We wake early and huddle around
the blue glow of the computer screen
just to add our names to the list,
never believing we’d be as excited
as kids on Christmas morning, opening
the gift of a needle that will carry
this hopeful medicine into us, bringing
relief to every set of red-rimmed
and weary eyes I see above the masks.
Inoculate me with the kindness
of a friend’s hand on my shoulder,
my mother’s yelp as she sees it’s me
through the peephole, then draws me
safely into the circle of her arms.
