How to keep travelling when you’re in Lockdown
The ceiling has cracks their imaginary maps
From the hinterland coving to the lampshade city districts.
I eulogise the bulb, write some light verse,
Have a drink, just a tipple
As I look at the stipple.
Travel is all in the mind
Well it has to be
When you’re in a lockdown.
I perambulated in a nonchalant manner
To every four corners of my temporary manor
Took photos of the sunset
As light glimmered from the tea set
Sipped a fine wine at the washing line
It’s such a fine time
For a lockdown.
The laundry basket has been designated
A UNESCO sight of special scientific interest.
I dived to the bottom from the deck of an
Imaginary boat
Found a vest.
I don’t even wear vests.
Creatures of the deep.
Mysterious creatures of the deep.
You haven’t lived until you’ve gazed at the banisters.
Their iconic skyline more evocative than Manhattan
Each pillar a Corinthian column these stern guards
I bought a post card.
Amid the humid splendour of the tropical bathroom
Balmy fat drops falling from a hot hot sky
Where many a fashion model has poised lips a pouting
I sipped a cocktail and looked at the grouting.
Oh the overriding gentle peace
Of sauntering next to the mantelpiece
Early in the morning to avoid the crowds and their backpacks
I peruse the bric a brac
I think I will come back
Maybe in five minutes time.
With a duster.
From the pouffe to the duvet
To the blanket which is crocheted
To my dinner which is gourmet
It’s a lockdown so I do stay
Right here.
And then when I think that I’ve been everywhere man
I’ve seen the comfy chair man
I’ve hoovered up my hair man
From my first attempt at a haircut.
This flat is a lifeline it feels like a lifetime
It’s feels like a fine time to be in for a lockdown
There’s seldom a fine line between
Distance and downtime
It’s hard to be upbeat when you
Get down for a lockdown.
But there’s a burning desire for travel deep within
Tomorrow I might go out and visit the bin.
Robert Garnham 