On covid days, the hours are lame. Inside the house I lay on a couch.
Or in a bed. Or stare ahead.
Outside is dead.
Padlocked swings and roundabouts. Rusted stuck for months.
Others opened with a click. Oiled by fortune, business, geography.
The silence of the children echoes. Unheard.
Myself, finally met how: “One pandemic panics home-picnics….”
I, too baked bread; a taste in the oven,
one to game-over precious laziness, till next hopelessness.
Quiescent, it has been there for me. I feed it, ease it through its passage.
Lift and fold. Repeat.
The third time with special care.
Leo Popham Vutthakanok is a Thai/British/Portuguese student who is in Portugal during the lockdown. He likes drawing and playing video games.
Cathy Lennon is a writer of short fiction, living in Lancashire, England.
Raajeev Auchambit is from Mauritius Island. He has been coping with Covid-19 via the escapist avenues of poetry – even if he remains quite, very much untrained.
Cath Barton lives in Abergavenny, South Wales. It was just before the first lockdown that she went on a sourdough baking day course. She has been baking bread, and sharing what she produces with a friend, ever since.