Silver Linings Scream

By Ceinwen Haydon

Brought back inside
by airless thunderstorms –
sweat stings paths down her back,
delivers torture in her Covid prison.

Yesterday, her tiny garden basked
in sun’s rays, gave some comfort. Today
rain pelts down. She’s always losing

something from her life, always
there’s a price to pay. Her shrunken world
shrinks further. Through streaked panes

she watches at midday, as light wanes.
Iron clouds fret and crows ink tattoos
across tormented skies.

At length, she can endure no more –

in her living room, careless
of who might see, she strips. Finally
she casts aside black knickers and lace bra

and bursts on sturdy legs

through her back door –

she slides free on wet grass.
She screams, dances, curses, casts
lethal spells on abhorrent Tory boors –her neighbours
hear her voice, her strength,
take up her roar, demand emancipation.

Today’s storm breaks, unleashes revolution.

Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon MA Creative Writing, Newcastle University, UK, 2017

Ceinwen lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and writes short stories and poetry. She has been widely published online and in print magazines and anthologies.


Notify of
1 Comment
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Moira Garland
2 days ago

Love the thoughts! And the poem.

Next Poetry and Covid Reading, 10th March, 7pm (GMT): Three international pairings of acclaimed poets recite collaborations written for the AHRC-funded Poetry and Covid project anthology, published by Shearsman Press.

Would love your thoughts, please comment.x