The Blackbirds Sing

The streets are deserted
Humans hidden
locked down.
Only essential Key-workers
able to roam
a to b
Serving us
Saving us
from the monsters
outside our doors...
the invisible ones
who do the most harm.
There is a battle being fought daily
in this, The Great Corona War.
Millions have perished globally
tens of thousands closer to home...
and the Leaders
don’t act quick enough
to close borders
limit the movement of people...
but when they do
it falls on deaf ears.
Because of a few
lockdown is extended
Because of a few
more people die!
Because of a few...

Protective equipment is lacking
or non-existent in some cases
The frontline exposed
succumbing to the Pandemic...
and the Leaders
don’t act quick enough
to provide protection
wanting herd immunity
to solve their problems
as each day
the death toll rises...


The streets were deserted
for a while anyway.
People creep out
to exercise
to shop for food
forgetting to distance
as much as they should...
the weather is so lovely
enticing the foolish
to venture further than they should
spreading the disease...
I, however, sit on the step
watch the ants as they crawl by
busily going about their business
providing for their kin.
I look at the beauty
of the flowers
and the Bee’s
creating life...
I close my eyes
turn my face
to the sun and sky
and I listen
to the calm
barely a car to be heard...
the absence
of the hustle and bustle
of people...
I sit on the step and listen
to the Blackbirds sing.

Louise A. Hart

The Blackbirds Sing is a reflective piece of free-form prose, trying to convey the inner despair and anxiety that I was feeling due to the Corona-Virus situation, about the inability of many from my neighbourhood to actually follow the social distancing rules and lock-down procedures, and my anger at the Government for their lack of prompt action or supplying of PPE.  This, followed by the coping mechanism of watching and listening to nature, finding peace within it, and realising that we as a species are unnecessary…

Tagged: #Arts #Fronteras #Class #Colonialism #Domesticity #Economy #Geopolitics of care #Health care #Housing #Migration #Quarantine #Race #Self-care #Welfare state

19 mayo 2020 — Louise A. Hart

Louise A. Hart

Morecambe, UK

Louise is 44, is married and a Mum to one marvellous autistic child. Last year was one of major change, moving her child and herself to Morecambe, marrying her husband and became a Partner in a business. She has enjoyed writing poetry since an early age. In her mid 30’s she joined the Lancashire Dead Good Poets in Blackpool, at which point it really took off. She wrote poetry blog posts for them (under her previous name Louise Barklam), has had 4 poems published in anthologies thus far, and likes to perform regularly at Open-Mic nights.»