Shopping in the time of Coronavirus
We snake round the supermarket block
— thirty strong on a mid-April afternoon.
Good to know that even amid a pandemic
the British know how to form a sensible queue.
I have already developed symptoms of
Proper Surgical Mask Envy. Where on earth
do people get them? I wonder. Amazon told me
it would take weeks. Most available got one star.
I spy with my little eye … Something beginning
with ‘S’. The church spire looms high over
the concrete lozenge of the backs of the shops.
It is quiet. Still. Birdsong not yet quite a cliché.
The woman two metres in front turns her face
upwards to the low sun streaming down
the goods-in drive. She looks my way and
— slightly embarrassed — says Lovely.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Rosie Miles would be
pleased to hear them.