Above The Clouds
(wrote back in March, which now seems an age ago)
The reluctant tears of morning dew
hang from foliage of vivid green.
A global pandemic is mentioned.
Ears barely prick
Minds drift like snow:
Mmm what's for tea?
The dew becomes gas and floats
Ribbons of wispy white melt into the blue high above.
Feet burn upon newly laid decking under an early summer sun.
Furlough brings time for odd jobs from dust-laden note paper,
and the rekindling of doorstep walks long since forgotten
A subtle breeze wafts the aroma of barbecued meats, and dissipates lager burps across gardens once seldom used.
Death toll 30000
The sky turns ashen, laden with tears
Charcoal embers float in the deluge
Dregs, in fallen beer bottles, sway
Hugs become a treasure
Above the clouds the constant stars sprinkle night with gold
The moon - old fat face himself - regards us with the wisdom of age, and waits, patiently,
for the awakening.