April 2020. A poem by Aidan Hynes

A month when nature displays its art
in parks, green hills, country lanes
when carers sweat in moon suits – a daily
roll call of known and unknown greats
leave a nation to mourn in lockdown.

A month of the virtual, a nation on zoom
diaries kept, books re-read, recipes shared
where empty streets are filled with birdsong
black flags flutter from funeral cars – nations’
burials fill ten thousand miles of sorrow.

A month the airways are Covid – wellness
experts converse on altered states – cocooning
hairdressing tips, student angst, 2k walks, blue skies
starry nights, emission free sunshine – the joy
suspended awaiting news of a vaccine.

A month neighbours leave food on doorsteps
loved ones dance in kitchens to Lizzy’s Old Town.


An anthologised teacher, writer & musician, Aidan Hynes has published short fiction and poetry in magazines, newspapers and journals. A winner and avid runner up in fiction competitons, he has been awarded an Arts Literature Bursary from Dublin City Council, spent many beautiful mornings mulling over blank pages in writers’ residencies in Ireland and Spain. He has a Masters in Creative Writing from Trinity College, Dublin. A native of Co. Mayo, Aidan lives in Dublin.

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