There are no Knights. A poem by Anne Irwin

The days are dull now
the clouds closing in.
sunshine and bird song gone
gone the anticipation, the when
and still lockdown continues.

Indoors someone plays on a tablet
another on the laptop
one makes pancakes and more tea
This could go on for a year,
the chaos of not knowing.

Then out of the mists of not knowing,
clad in golden capes, they come
a glittering mane of platinum
in language of scientific certitude
they talk of liberty and freedom

They talk of plots to control our minds
they tell us it’s safe to mingle,
that no one will die,
they tell us it is proven that if taken
Vitamins C, D, zinc and hydroxychloroquine

will not only protect but revitalize the elderly
it’s only the common cold
no worse than the regular flu, they say,
severity exaggerated
by the EU to bring us to our knees.

They pedal their dogma to our longing
using algorithms that know who we are.

Meanwhile we return to the rain
to the isolation
deal with our loneliness.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *