Walking Out After the Pandemic
Iíve been cocooned long enough
she says and her voice sounds thin and hollow
probably from lack of use except in a confined space.
Surely, thereís something she must do?
Not a bucket list of experiences
like floating in a hot air balloon over the Loire.
She remembers the grasshoppers of her childhood
brittle and happy in the energetic days.
Walking out, she takes a photo of a swan in the reeds.
She doesnít want to float for the rest of her life.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Sarah Barr would be pleased to hear them.