It was too quiet in those weeks
no cars rumbling past
no children singing their way to school.
The fresh smells and colours of Spring
reclaimed streets and towns
birds popped into view, posed on lampposts
dawdled on warm car roofs
sauntered across unbusy roads.
Fear has a taste and it is this
the dread of an invisible invader
the unwelcome peace of a street.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Another memory of the first UK lockdown in March 2020
When this all settles
I will walk along a stony beach
Stepping across rock pools
Looking for fossils
Life has been here before and will be after
Nothing was ever certain
Life was always frail
A bubble has burst
But we will float again
Life is all we have, treasure its small joys
When this all settles
We must mourn the dead
Unpick our mistakes
Grieve for lost chances
Life for us should never be the same
We have another danger
That may take us all
This is a rehearsal
Now we must save our world
Our grandchildren must live and thrive
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
It was almost a living thing, large and smothering
that pinned us down and
which seems to have shed hairs everywhere,
I’m still finding them, clearing them away.
Days melted into each other
alone in this vessel of a house
plunging deep depths of fears and anxieties
climbing swallowing waves to see clear skies.
Gradually ending more and more days with a muttered
“That was a good one, wasn’t it?”.
Absorbing ourselves in the minutia of gardening
seedlings as companions, hope for some future
and canny planning for food supplies.
A returning shopper asked what is it like out there
as they washed clothes, hair and body
and we wiped clean all they had brought back.
No eggs this time.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Remembering the first UK Lockdown, in March 2020, an unsettling frightening time.
We are not out of the woods yet. This past week we have been isolating with a sick adult son who was in contact with a confirmed Covid case. We are waiting for test results, but the labs are slow due to 1.6 million poeple isolating this week and getting tested!
At least in full lockdown we were allowed to leave the house for exercise — I’m feeling very confined.
Fret not too much — so far, the effects are light.
linked to – earthweal open link weekend #75 | earthweal
Stark morning light
etches lanky dogroses scrambling in hedgerows
as we tramp the lane once more
Scrabbles of bright
flowers grace grass edges
the blues and yellows of Springs panoply
Another troubled night
has left us weary, needing solace
in this our morning walk
Then into sight
floats a Red Kite, peering for prey
her elegance lifts us
And we delight
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
In my mask
I no longer need to push the smile through
In my mask
I evade dust and pollen
In my mask
There is protection for dry lips
In my mask
I am speaking through my eyes
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Looking for light, hearing it’s echoes
while shadows criticise and despair
I’m hanging on Hopes rocky crags
and getting that second jab…..
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Today at 9:30am! Yes!
Grief fills you up and binds you
It rages and despairs
You want to look behind you
To seek the person that’s not there
A black hole rests within you
Filled with empty pain
A cry comes from inside you
I want that time again
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For all those who have lost loved ones in the Pandemic.
Raging against the rest of us
she calls us feeble sheep
doltards, retards, connivers in
our own imprisonment
bitter enemies of freedom
Freedom being, apparently
the right to party
to go down the pub
drink yourself insensible
and to then post photos of your creative craziness
as you throw up in the gutter
My freedoms are different
yes, I long to see and hug
but I need more to stay alive
to walk in fresh air, to read, to think
in peace and in health
Freedom , as always, is mutable
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
I am listening with my eyes closed
bees bumble in flowers
wasps sharp buzzing near my head
bicycles spin past in the lane
I smell the lycra
I am listening with my eyes closed
I am listening with my eyes closed
to walkers stepping around
keeping the distance
people anxious and wary
soft breezes and hot sun
in a trapped season
I am listening with my eyes closed
I am listening, listening, feeling
cool air under trees
folk chatting as they pass
voices subdued
always the news, always the count
I am hoping, hoping, wanting
Fear washes us all clean
I am remembering
embracing, kissing friends
laughing
I am listening with my eyes closed
air moves, shivers leaves above
traffic burrs along a distant road
something clangs nearby
life persists, hopes, loves
I am listening with my eyes closed.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
My response to earthweal weekly challenge: The Unsayable.
I am describing last summer in lockdown in this poem. Apart from the change form summer to winter, there is no material difference in my daily life between then to now.
Of course, we do now have safe and working vaccines!
I could see his wide welcoming smile
even a mask couldn’t hide it
as he waved me through the door
to the temperature scan.
At the entry desk, a familiar face
my diabetes nurse, eyes lit
everyone was buoyant, so
pleased to be there
to be part of something grand.
A short wait, wearing a sticker
with name, birthdate, NHS number
then a doctor beckoned
such a light jab in the arm
and then out to sit fifteen minutes
chatting to strangers, laughing
finally back out to bright sunshine.
Every thing was bright today.
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Today I got my first dose of the Pfizer-BioNTech vaccine. Data shows one dose reduces the risk of catching infection by more than 70%, rising to 85% after the second dose. Yippee!
Thank you to all the volunteers who are making this fast rollout such a happy success.
