nests are being built,
daffodils bloom in bright sunshine.
Spring is here, yet we are bereft of joy.
Fear lurks on the empty streets
and the lush countryside.
The odour of panic permeates nostrils
Stealing the air from our lungs.
Days are spent apart from family, self-isolating,
staring out the window seeking solace from nature,
devouring newsfeeds for a glimmer of light,
grieving, as the victim count grows higher and higher.
We are all in this together, we hear
but we all have to face it alone,
looking into our hearts, reflecting,
seeking answers, waiting.
In the dark of night, we recite half remembered prayers
to an almost forgotten God,
bartering with our souls, vowing to change,
as we ebb and flow between hope and despair.
Still, we have to have faith.
Faith In the skill of dedicated doctors and nurses,
in the goodness of our community, and in ourselves to do what’s asked.
And belief in a higher power, belief that we will endure.
I write poetry, short stories and sometimes I attempt haiku, mostly as a pass time but have been published and have some had some poetry placed in competitions.