Pandemic Poems - APRIL 2020
Aaron Facer
aaronfacer@hotmail.co.uk
Bio Note: I grew up in a small village in North Wales but currently live in Cardiff, South Wales, where I came to study. By day I work in a box office. At night I watch too much television, read Robert Lowell and—occasionally—write. My poems have been published in Lucent Dreaming and in the Cardiff Review.

Furlough, etc.

Another day in this quiet house
and the late-March air opens like a bud.
Another day with my fingers pressed
to the panes, my mind wrapped
in caffeine and the front door locked.
In itself, this cage is not unusual.
In itself, it’s no cage at all.

Another day and no quarantine
for the birds, no limits on sunlight.
Another day without soil under
fingernails, no snails on the windowsills
and no friends waiting at the doorstep.
In themselves, these times aren’t unusual.
In some way, this isn’t time at all.

Another day, morning bleeds into evening –
afternoon is only a frightening afterthought.
Another day, moments seamlessly flowing
into the next, the clock-face backdating a tick
here and there, pages left empty, loose ends
hanging, words unspoken. Evidently, I’m in
my element—withdrawn, supine and vacuous.
©2020 Aaron Facer
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