Lockdown number 4 for Victoria and I’m breathing new life into my Pandemic Poetry series, out of necessity more than anything else. It was always a series that was born out of catharsis and this lockdown has hit me particularly hard. Thank goodness for poetry.
The day-by-day invitational commentary play-by-play draws me away from myself
and into every moment
Mum, every moment
Knee-deep in dishes but TV series binges feed the need to be just me
when the pleading is needling
Mum, I just need
Hopefully only a short-haul but the four-walls are closing in
and I forgot to take out the bins again
But the question remains –
How long can I go without hearing myself being called by my name?