Another pandemic
Piled pyramidally on top of the bin
Precarious crates and paper plates
Lord it over the overflow ...
A plastic salad tub or two
And paper masks
Crumpled blue
With broken strings.
There’s no pub near the lone pint pot
That leans rakishly against a birch,
Nursing the afternoon’s dregs and
Staying stock still so as not to lurch.
Bottle tops trodden into London clay
Sprout between tussocks of weary grass,
While a barber-pole straw dallies with daffs
And a pizza box spreads like porn-style ass.
Percussive rain on a discarded can
Refreshes the parts with a pinging tune,
And a neon spoon floats across the pond
As though water has borrowed the moon.
Bedraggled plastic caught in branches,
Remains of bunting tied to trunks
Shiny metal stars, bombed into the air to greet a birthday
Fallen now like blossom
Sparkle on the ground
And vie for space beside the wall
With shreds of a dog-torn rubber ball
And a plastic five that speared the cake.
Lockdown is easing as spring is sprung.
Let’s surge to freedom and
Show nature what it’s missed.
April 2021
