I’ll be sharing my thoughts, ideas, questions that have arisen whilst enduring the UK Coronavirus lockdown. They may take any shape; poems, short stories, rants etc all early drafts (no more than an hour of work) in attempt to overcome a fear of sharing work that isn’t finished, to keep sane, to connect to world
The sun at three in the afternoon
catches the wing of a bee
and at the same time reflects off my full moon
earring I had left on the kitchen window sill
creating a brief constellation
across the wall and cupboard doors
the sun and earring working in tandem
conceive a brief ethereal decryption.
Standing star gazing in my kitchen
I try to unravel the mystery
to read the messages from this fading celestial city
because the ordinary has been afflicted by a virus
that’s lockdown nations, disrupted daily routines
anything seems possible now
maybe this spectrum of light
reflects how many will die today?
Or each star a reminder of those who have already fallen?
An unnamed five year old,
Doctor Sa’adu, returning from retirement, to care for the sick,
the grieving daughter who died from a heart attack
as her mother, a coronavirus victim, was lowered into the ground.
This spectacle of light reminds me
my best friend’s uncle will be cremated alone
without the song of a Caribbean funeral
one of the stars burning across the sky in day light.
© ioney smallhorne 2020