Another World

From his rooftop aerie
he looks down on this lock down, shut down
North East town

In the empty streets below
rusty shutters rattle over
dead-eyed shop windows
shaken by the wind off the sea
that chases litter into eddies
in the corners of dusty doorways

He paces out his daily ration of exercise
with long-limbed strides

Imagines spreading his wings
and flying across that cold sea,
dreams of swooping over
the lakes and forests of his homeland
to the cabin by the water
where the log fire’s generous heat
warms his body and
the beauty of trees
against a cornflower blue sky
stirs his soul

He dreams.

Fran Edwards