Arrival

Meeting a Guernsey friend for the first time since lockdown began in 2020. Great to sit at El Tico and have a chat over cups of tea. This poem looks at the present trajectory of the virus, but keeps a warning brief about what the future may hold.

Arrival

When the world caught a cold:
Covid: so, long, growing old.
And lockdown began that day,
That fateful day, and yes I pray,
As countless die: loss of breath,
Hastening to hospital and death;
And unable to see those dying,
The mourners, in solitary crying,
For that lost moment, that end:
Brokenness: how could we mend?
And yet a glimmer of hope now:
Springtime: fields to the plough,
As potatoes sown, sign of hope:
A parable of how we can cope,
As the variant virus seems mild,
Not as severe as first was wild;
So the barriers are come down,
In year enthroned with crown,
That at last I can meet a friend;
Not that this is certainly an end:
The virus may return once more,
And once again the closing door;
But now, over from sister Island,
Guernsey friend, trip unplanned,
And sudden, but welcome arrival;
We have come through: survival
And just meet and chat, drink tea,
All simple pleasures, we agree,
We don’t now take for granted;
In our world, dark, enchanted,
A wicked spell is being broken,
In conversation softly spoken,
This is where we arrive tonight,
A kind of ending of this blight;
Other nights may come, sorrow,
In strange unknown tomorrow;
But for now, the dawn arrives:
We begin to mend our lives.