Apocalypse Now

I did not imagine that the end of the world

would smell like banana bread,

or that it would bring with it

so many photographs of sourdough.

Back when a duvet was a continental quilt,

and I read teen-tracks by torchlight –

my enduring nightmares

were of the siren at school,

the poisoned water,

the bleeding gums,

my sister in the land.

We feared the mushroom cloud.

I did not expect the pitiless sky

to be this clear and Wedgwood blue.

Jill Paton Walsh taught us

it was a parcel of patterns

brought the plague to Eyam –

not the supermarket deliveries,

the jogger,

the toddler,

the Amazon package

quarantined three days in the garage,

next to the strimmer.

I did not think we would still cut the grass.

I could not imagine all the birds, singing.


By Sarah Ziman


#lockdownlife #coronavirus

32 views

Got a question? Drop us a line

CONTACT US: Use the form below or email us on contact@inspirationinisolation.co.uk

© 2020 by Michelle Stevens . Created with Wix.com

All imagery courtesy of Wix, Unsplash or writers own

This site was designed with the
.com
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now