Four Poems

By Tracey Pearson

Sonnet I: Lockdown

My lockdown days are nothing like the rest,
no sourdough starter, no working from home,
no online, Zoom time, career beating best,
no deadlines, meetings, just sitting alone.

I have heard people complaining, sighing,
listing each minute, so full of busy,
saying each day is brimming, competing
with peers, until they prove they’re not lazy.

But there are many good people like me
who have nothing to go back to, yet hope
the new normal will be open and free,
a future to breathe, a future not choked.

A future table big enough for all
where everyone is valued – none feel small.

Flat 108, Hope Tower

She can’t see the muse yet, but
she can feel a warmth, even
though the £1.57 left on the
electric metre means she’ll have
to go easy on the heating today.
The view from the fifteenth floor
of the tower block window is a
dot-to-dot of rain drops on
a silver sky background. Her nest bed
vantage point on the world outside
makes her feel like she’s floating.
Days like these give her a migraine.
It’s the eleventy-fifth day
of lockdown, her feet are
beginning to forget what shoes
feel like. The toast diet is tiring.
Radio news is repetitive. There
are no bananas in her fruit-bowl
if there’s a second wave
of banana bread. The shop
on the estate doesn’t sell them.
She picks up her pen and writes.

Extreme Weather

Snow has fallen on the Sahara,
the parks are full, the pubs are shut,
breath is measured in daily stats.
Shops are essential, children are
missing school, arms are missing
hugs, strangers are missing each other.
Funerals are shrunken, mourners
are rationed, tears are not.
Smiles are masked, snow melts
in the Saharan sun.

Apnoea

We’re balanced on the needle tip,
waiting, inert, unsure
in the silent space between breaths.

Gazebos are the new inside, outside
as a nation
we’re trying to embrace café culture.

It’s not easy up here, next to the North Sea
but we laugh it off,
welcome the cold to the table.

Two metres of hope between us.

Tracey is a poet and flash fiction writer from Newcastle upon Tyne. Her writing is published in print magazines, anthologies and online.

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sue matin
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sue matin
1 month ago

Love these poems Tracey, they capture so many aspects of pandemic life

Diana Jansen
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Diana Jansen
2 months ago

I love these poems Tracey. Powerful in their imagery and so beautifully conveying the experience of limitation and also, desperation, that so many of us are living through.
Diana

Alison
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Alison
2 months ago

I really enjoyed all your poems Tracey, they breathe hope and exhale insight, but I absolutely loved ‘Apnoea.’
It’s full of great images, “balanced on the needle tip,” welcome cold to the table” and the wonderful last line “Two metres of hope between us.”
Flat 108, Hope Tower was also very evocative for me and some lines keep reverberating in my head, “eleventy fifth day of lockdown,” and the “no bananas in her fruit bowl if there’s a second wave of banana bread / the shop on her estate doesn’t sell them.” You’ve described a character and her circumstances in such a concise and vivid way.,

Philippa
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Philippa
2 months ago

4 wonderful poems! There is such humanity and hope in all of them. Love the line “Gazebos are the new inside, outside” (Apnoea). So true!

gila
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gila
2 months ago

I love the topsy-turvy examples in Extreme Weather. They all challenge us to determine what really matters.

Amy Beth Sisson
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Amy Beth Sisson
2 months ago

Thanks. I love these lines! Smiles are masked, snow melts
in the Saharan sun.

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