Lockdown

Silence hangs, like a fine mist on a winters day, Blanketing empty streets, Calling us back to wilderness. Now only birds claim their space, And up above, The deep blue sky now free from white lines Whispers to our souls, Eternity suddenly less abstract, Blue fading to deeper blue fading into space, And floating in the wind, Like the call of a mythical beast, The sirens call, Reminding the world to keep their space, Reminding us to keep the silence, Reminding us, That we have lived on the edge, And that now, Silence washes our hearts, And fresh air is filling these empty skies. John Roberts