Last night, I dreamed that I went to church.
When I arrived, the pews were full.
I gazed at the mass of solemn, expectant faces.
I found a seat in the corner, some distance from the crowd
but was called up nonetheless.
They pronounced my name wrong
yet I did not correct it.
Fixing a tiny microphone to my collar, the vicar said:
‘I believe you will explain the trajectory of the virus for us’.
I searched briefly for a defence
against this ludicrous expectation
but could find none.
Accepting a cup of fairly traded tea,
I began to speak.
Michele is based in the United Kingdom and her writing has appeared in a variety of anthologies and other publications. Since March 2020, she has written more than 90 poems about the lockdown experience. She is an active member of Leicester Writers’ Club.
