An empty train slices through silence,
carries no-one somewhere.
Pedestrians hedge-hug, kerb-cling,
claim the road, one car length apart.
Fewer cars to run them down.
Children draw rainbows which
radiate from windows.
Birds migrate from country into town.
Masks emphasise &
scarves round nose and mouth disguise,
like cowboys on a shoot-out for baked beans.
We all queue. Patiently now.
Being British we are good at it.
But back at home we open windows,
stand outside to clap and whoop and
cheer together those who risk
their health to keep us safe,
then skype and zoom and meet with friends
for wine and cake and conversation.
This is how we deal with quarantine and
manage our need for communication.
Kay Ritchie grew up in Glasgow & Edinburgh, lived in London, Spain & Portugal, worked as a photographer & radio producer & has been published in Black Middens, The Glad Rag, Shorelines, Making Waves, Treasures, Honest Error, Poets’ Republic, Gutter, Landfill. She is Clydebuilt & has performed at several events.