The bus is two thirds full. Everything seems
So ordinary, but it isn’t, quite
People are going to work. There are no screams
No looting parties. But it’s not quite right.
The man in the newsagents wears a mask
And latex gloves. There isn’t any pasta
Or toilet paper. I don’t like to ask
If there’s more coming. Thought it would be faster,
The breakdown of society, but no.
It’s all the same, except that here and there
It’s slightly different, just enough to show
That something very bad is in the air.
Online, I read that Covid deaths are soaring.
I’m terrified. So why’s life still so boring?
Tom Juniper Poetry 