The corona virus has all but silenced
this isle of noises,
masks have muffled our voices,
damp squibs at the festival of light.
Unmasked revellers light bangers and screamers,
sparks of hope for dreamers,
while Caliban sobs in a corner
over glasses drained of wine.
Kim M. Russell, 28th December 2020
My response to earthweal weekly challenge: A Feast of Earth Fools
Brendan reminds us that we are approaching the New Year’s celebration, which won’t be much different for me this year, as I shun the annual crowds and booze, preferring to spend time in the warm with my husband, listening to music, reading, writing and, sometimes, watching fireworks on the television. As Brendan says, it will be a time of ‘reflection and resolution-making, clearing away the detritus of a difficult 2020 in the hopes that 2021 will be of a different order’.
I enjoyed Brendan’s reflections on the ebbing of moon and tides, human festivals, order and disorder, the Greek and Romans, Pagans and Christians, ghosts and fools.
For this week’s challenge, Brendan would like us to invite our dead to the feast, stage our own masques and appoint Lords of Misrule – to take it further and make this a Feast of Earth Fools.
After a couple of days away from poetry, my offering is small, an octet, a limbering up of poetic muscle for the new year.