A coronaviral stroll

A coronaviral stroll

A family kind of morning

Following on from rain

The seawater slapping

At the high tide mark

People need diversions

Wearing masks

Is but a token

It walks among them

Stalking as a lion

Splitting lame Buffalo

From the herd

Following from a distance

As rebellious young folk

Fly by on skateboards,

(Do the older ones

Ever grow up?)

Refusing the call

To step in line

Dispersing slow moving strollers

Like skittles

Grande dames wear sorrow

As their ancestors

Wore widows weeds

Discarding the need for colour

As news of darkness grows

It is a lovely day for walking

I see it in the faces

Of the parents

Pulling babies out of reach

Of strangers

Nobody knows when

Caution trumped trust

But people rarely talk freely

From behind a safety mask

The sun shines bright across the bay

As tiny sailboats dance

Along the horizon

Pretty as a picture

So many stories

To be told

Of the survivors of bushfires

On the evening news

The same look as a natural

Disaster

Disbelief is catching

Fear can go viral

So many people

See themselves as dead men walking

It is written in their faces

As virtual lions prowl

The outlands waiting

For the moment

To spread pandemonium

Like a plague

And in the confusion

When masks fall

A gang of UK variant mutations

Pour out

From the dark side of lockdown

And carry them off

Like prey