By Chris Whitehead

We have been scratching and biting on the skin of Mother Earth

Digging and poking and blowing things up

What goes around comes around and  she has delivered amongst us, an assassin

A hard lesson is about to be taught to us devils who spit disdain upon the spirit of life

The air is becoming cleaner, above the heroes who are dying

You may thank your God that the assassin does not come down too hard upon your young

Dying has no joyfulness but now the air is filter fresh

There are simple things to learn from lockdown

The streets are silent and there are no aeroplanes up in the sky

No sprawling vapour trails to blot out the sun

You can hear the blue tits sing and watch as they frisk in the trees

 I am afraid now and yet I am grateful for the clearing sky

It has only been a few weeks in this time of the assassin and already I can taste the difference

There are advantages with this lockdown

At my age I am fearful that the assassin will come and take me

Would it be a triumph to know that my end would come underneath a sweeter smelling sky?

Did Mother Earth get angry? Has she a feeling soul?

I could not bet against it, as she is everything to all of us and always will be

Could it be her only choice? To send a ruthless assassin

You who died before your time, against your will, gave her chance to breath                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

You all should be honoured as greatly as any saint or martyr that ever was

All sins atoned for. Repatriated for all time in the glorious Elysian fields

Without you there would be no lockdown

No clearing sky

Look no further afield for a God 

Mother Earth is here, generous, underfoot

She teaches us with great restraint, although at this time, you might not think so

Until we learn

Lockdown.