Now the pause button has been released
how shall we celebrate?
Can we conquer our rampant paranoia?
What priorities to first serve?
For me, hugging our granddaughters,
their soft, warm bodies tight against mine.
Skype doesn’t cut it with scattered families
imprisoned each within their own place;
nine months for one daughter, eighteen the other.
There will be tears.
So long our hermit-like existence,
will we construct logical sentences?
Muscles unflexed are stiff and sore,
Airing ourselves in the sunshine,
shall we risk a house visit
for the pure comfort of company?
Finally, a café with coffee and cake,
share our meagre experiences:
which jab, what reaction, how long?
Falling back into rhythms half forgotten,
able to touch an arm in sympathy,
remember the friend we won’t see anymore.
Will life ever seem "normal" again?