ISOLATION BECKONS

Two poems about our present predicament. The first concerns the Babacombe Cliff Railway, which is now closed for the duration. 

The last ride on the Cliff Railway for the foreseeable future

we remain the safe social distance apart

smile but do not speak

for what is there to say

at least the spring has been closed

each person’s isolation beckons

This second poem was written in response to a prompt from Secret Poet Liz. The prompt concerned two people and a discarded Corona beer bottle.

once she would have picked up that corona bottle

the morning after the merry makers had left it there

along with any other litter

thoughtlessly scattered by the through traffic

wary of infection

she leaves it be

notes its seeming permanence

every morning now she keeps herself to herself

he concentrates on keeping his distance

no jane austin character was ever more precise

they pause they do not speak

he double checks the space between

Liz suggested scrapping the first two stanzas and on reflection I think she is correct. 
I'll let you edit it for yourself.
Here's Sean Taylor. Like all musicians he makes his living from playing live, which in the present circumstances is impossible. Please do what you can to help Sean and other creative people like him survive this crisis.

Until next time.

SITTING ON THE STAIRS

I have just moved house and subsequently have had no internet, hence no post last week. It was attached yesterday. I am back.
Here is a poem about that point in the house sale when you are sat on the stairs waiting for the transactions to go through.

he tells me it will happen

at some point

because it always does

you will end up sitting on the stairs

all actions halted

until the money is transferred

from that bank to another bank

and this house will cease to be your home

while another

somewhere else

equally empty

assumes that title

and as you unlock its front door

you will hope it will be a happy one

I realise that I am in a privileged position to have the opportunity to move when I want to.  

the wasp and the window

misadventuring

wrong side of the glass

beyond comprehension

but repeat the action until

exhaustion

I have been there too

so have you

This is an older poem that I wrote after liberating a wasp.
I've not set up the sound system yet. I'm listening to music on a sound bar courtesy of my DX50. 
Here's Sean Taylor. He's doing a brief UK tour in March.
This is So Fine

Until next time.