The World Stood Still
Three days into lockdown
and boredom had already taken its place
in the mind of every individual. Before you came,
life was here, sprouting from every nook and cranny,
spasms of freedom, disrupting the blockade
of the war that you brought.
Sellotape bandaged around the table,
as I tried to craft as many pointless things
as I could, smoothed down the blanket
wrapped around me, steeled the softening
of my face. I wanted to graze my nose
across the tip of her nose, hold my
niece like I did three
days ago. I resisted the impulse to
go back to the fridge and clean
it for a third time.
All my days flattened, rolled, turned into emptiness,
slowly melting into one. I was brave, as I walked
with my dog for the second time today, threw
open the front door, the world, that once overflowed
like a treasure chest, now stood still. A split second
and we were away, intoxicated by potential diseases.
When we got back, I went to my room,
released my feelings from their cage.
Later a single dove flew from the tree across the road,
and this is where it has led me,
dancing around the house, my mind busy
sending my thanks, complements and appreciation to God
for ensuring that I am healthy.
On reaching the top of the stairs I traced
the fingerprints on the window,
leaned against it like a wishbone.
The dove pulled freely against the sky,
an ornamental stitch. I listened, hoping to hear
playground voices catching on the wind.