before doing a runner

she cut down my tree

pine needles all over

festive debris to see

fairy dead on the rug

each bauble smashed

lights cables tangled

my Christmas dashed

should have twigged it,

axe-heads lit her eyes

our rapport splintering

ate my last mince pies

a forest of complaints

calling me dead wood

unhappy with my log

called my p...

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History will wash its hands of 2020

Wuhan bats and disposable masks,

Just another year in human annals

Fodder for future historians' tasks

Who'd have thought it a year ago?

A holocaust of innocent old dears

Lockdowns and social distancing

I always felt it would end in Tiers

Hand gel and hissing ventilators

Dodgy oxygen levels all the rage,

Vulnerable citizen...

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