By Moira Garland
yellow towel blowing
in mild breezes heavy
branch acting as washing line
prop artfully crafted by woodsmen last
spring looking back only one year already
moved by the grieving gurgle of the pigeon.
In April I surprised myself by writing a poem almost every day as part of the NaPoWriMo challenge. Surprise because my poetry needs both isolation and regular contact with people close to me, and others, and my lockdown has been – and still is –accompanied only by the cat. Human touch has been confined to a few medical visits and a stretched out hand to my son. This poem is just one moment contemplating mood swings and feelings of stasis that have afflicted so many of us. At the same time I could watch natural elements and online reports, listen to socially-distanced stories from neighbours, and from friends’ ‘garden visits’. Eventually I found joy in Zoom events. There were times when it was necessary for mental well-being to switch off from considering the people suffering with Covid-19 or worrying who might be next.