Pandemic poetry #1

Slow

Down.

There’s nowhere to rush to.

For once, we’re not late.

Because

Nothing

Is

Happening.

What will it be like to wake up from this dream state?

To hear the aeroplanes overhead again

And watch the traffic standing still.

Until then, small one,

Just us.

On time, for once.

** Before you bite me, we were outside very early this morning and we didn’t touch anything or get closer than 2m from anyone else. We are in UK so not in total lockdown. Yet. Also, I know his coat’s too big.