Lock down has made me aware of local things.
The migration of birds above my garden.
Urban foxes scavenging for scraps.
Every flower in my garden becomes a friend,
A short lived friend perhaps, but one to photograph
and cherish.
These flowers must take the place of distant folk
Locked down in other parts of this grim country,
Unable to make a break, take the wheel and travel,
Unable to ride the bus or express train.
And I have not met my love, or other members of
my family
Since early March, and now the leaves are down,
The birds have flown, hitch hiking thermals to Africa,
their freedom exemplary.
At night I live in dreams and hug the autumn air,
Missing smiles and kisses, a heart beating close to
mine.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 17th. 2020.
Poem number Four in my November 2020 sequence.
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