Lockdown listens to airwaves that carry pleasant voices,
unwanted opinions, boring lives, that crave attention.Lockdown watches silly games, grievances, quizzes and,
scary tallies of death, and tears of the bereaved.
Lockdown questions “When is it my turn, to go uncounted?”
Hiding behind glass curtains, watching the ambulance,
take the sick away, leaving those at risk and afraid, behind.
Lockdown gets out the gloves and the face mask,
that now form the necessities, for a weekly shop.
Lockdown washes all that may wait to infect and disrupts,
from the face, the hands, keys, and door handles.
Lockdown is grateful to have returned to a fourteen
square metres, darkened room, filled with books,
a phone, a radio, a tv, and a chair near the window.
Lockdown connects with the news headlines, photos,
and videos of cats just lying about, clearly bored.
Lockdown catches a glimpse of Lonely’s reflection,
cries, “Go away. I’m just alone. Don’t fool my head.”
The sense of repetitiveness, slowly sinks in, and,
the wait for the week to survive, slowly begins.
Lockdown decides it’s time, it’s a chance, and worth a try.
That phone has been useless, without its prime purpose.
Lockdown reaches out to voice the weeks, that were trying,
to real voices, that stress the good deed of holding on.
Lockdown unfolds a new thinking, that helps ensure,
the weeks to come, are set, to face the New Normal.
© 15 April 2020 Jacquelene Martina
