A smaller more personal poem today, after the excesses of yesterday.

*****

peak pandemic

how perfectly pleasant
to sit inside  rug on lap
book in hand  tea by side
warm as butter  slowly
melting into  hot crumpets
dog  snoring nearby

while outside  trees writhe
in the window-rattling
thunder-spreading wind
the sky grey  in all ways
& the rain hits the roof
like  a million microscopic
viruses trying to breach
my home’s   defences 

all while knowing 

i’m
helping
save
the
world

life has reached peak

.

.

Note: I’m borderline embarrassed to admit (but not quite really) that I almost spent more time looking at images of cups of tea next to books by rainy windows than I did writing the poem. OMG I’ve discovered a new way (as if one was needed) to waste valuable interwebs time.