Covid lockdown (Remove filter)
November 2020
A plane crashing that never seems to hit the ground to explode
into pieces. A frozen moment in time.
Distraught, but then cleansed.
Broken again, only to mend.
Our lives - a computer graphic having a glitch,
repetition of the same sold narrative,
and then static.
Fading out with no soft cushion for landing.
Volume being culled.
A big brother house of Covid guest stars.
...Sunday 22nd November 2020 2:42 pm
Recent Comments
Rick Varden on Money
4 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Nobody Loved Me Like You
6 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Je t’adore.
6 hours ago
Tim Higbee on It Matters Not
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 140 of 230: HOUSING
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Money
12 hours ago
David Franks on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 140 of 230: HOUSING
13 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on It Matters Not
14 hours ago
Clare on Je t’adore.
1 day ago
John Coopey on AUTUMN TREES
1 day ago