Lock-down day two,
running along the lakefront
I pass a chestnut tree
full of bright green spiky Covid-19 balls.
In the house for too long,
imbibing the news
like an alcoholic.
The lake laps
softly on the pebbled shore,
the only sound
to break the silence.
Sooty black bright-eyed papango
dive under the water
and pop up like corks.
The word out on the water
is that humankind have left
for another planet,
just a few remaining
who missed the transport
or the memo.
What was it, the ducks ask,
were the sunsets not red enough?
the birdsong not tuneful enough?
the water not cool enough?
the hills not hilly enough?
That's about the size of it 