In Lockdown. A poem by Terry McDonagh

I’m a spring tide going out,
an uncrowned berry on a bush,

a dreaming fox in a blurb
of moon-some dancing

with a string of stray sausages
tossed over one shoulder

and a free faux pas picking
at placebos dipped in fear.

My whispers shout – it’s me!

Stars and days queue up
to consider me – isolated,

a nocturnal beast at bright-time
with nothing better to do

than throw a spotlight on myself,
the unused actor pleading to play

the skeleton of a fairy queen
sneaking past a therapist’s sofa.

Clapping and candles
don’t tell the whole story.

………….

Terry McDonagh (www.terry-mcdonagh.com) has taught creative writing at Uni. Hamburg and was International School Drama Director. Published eleven poetry collections as well as letters, prose and poetry for young people. A much travelled poet, he’s been translated into German and Indonesian. Latest poetry collection, Fourth Floor Flat– 44 Cantos – Arlen House. He’s, recently, returned to live in Ireland.