Plunged into a strange sort of darkness
that has days
filled with sunshine
so we can All work from home.
The panic of a pandemic is slow burning because
work never stops
now that we are off the clock,
Business saves me when it doesn’t
But then the news, and twitter feeds, and road signs
that tell us to Stay home, Save lives –
nine Fridays in and they still
catch me off guard,
and make me have to
catch my breath,
because this is unbelievable.
The daffodils came and went in all their finesse,
And the beaches of India are aplomb with hatching turtles,
And CO2 levels are at an all time low
-as is everyone.
But the populous is trying,
to hope and on every word
in state of the nation addresses.
As March, April, May evenings
stretch out in front of the darkest
of all our years.
Not even the Irish Leaving Certificate has survived.
Where will we be this time next year?
Did you ever see anything
like the amount of empty
wine and beer bottles
leaving our house lately?
Now that we’ve
nowhere to go
Drink driving doesn’t factor
Escape to the Algarve
has been replaced with escapes into Shiraz
-or whatever you’re having yourself.
Will we ever have the honeymoon we couldn’t really afford?
Covid-19 has ensured
sure and certain poverty. Just like when I was born
in the eighties, when fish fingers were for dinner.
I loved them with beans.
(It’s important to have perspective.)
Skype parties are great –
you can attend in your post bath
or shower attire
with a big red face.
And it doesn’t really matter
what shoes you wear –
because you’re just on your sofa.
I never really liked going out
Since I left my twenties.
But what I wouldn’t give for a
Swim and a glimpse of the
I am an English, Religion and History Secondary School teacher and penned these based on my experience of the current pandemic. Previous publications include: – ‘Teachers Who Write: An Anthology’, Nov 2018, ISBN 978 1 90692697 7 – https://vitabrevisliterature.com/poems/balance-poem-by-sandra-donohoe/