After nearly two weeks within these walls,
and even more to follow,
with only walks around the garden,
how long can claustrophobia be suppressed?
I write poetry in pyjamas, no reason to get dressed
until I open the back door to spring sunshine,
to hang out washing, feed the birds,
pace around the willow chanting words
that no one else can hear. And then I’m kissed
by the breeze, greeted by greening trees,
a clump of sunny daffodils
almost brings me to my knees,
and I realise the cat has followed me,
her fur silvered and spring glossy.
Kim M. Russell, 24th March 2020
My response to earthweal weekly challenge: Silver Linings