Skating through the silence
the back of the deserted old cricket club
blends into the early morning mist
with the moon sinking over the cliff
turning the coastline orange
when the last of the seagulls disappeared
over the edge.

In the distance you can hear
the cars begin to stretch their legs again
after a prolonged break
and people returning to the train station
following white two metre lines
like they were stepping
into a unsure fairy tale.

Back home you have worked tirelessly
switching on your laptop at 7am
dosing yourself up in sugar free red bulls
until it got to just before 3pm
and leaving you feeling instead
of being on the roof of the world
you were now hiding in the basement,

now breaking out of three months of silence
afraid to even open the kitchen window
let alone say hello to your neighbour
looking at yourself in the window
your imagination finally set free
finally finding the right words
mourning for all those who didn’t make it.