The Name of the Virus
by Paula Jennings
I think of corvids,
the green-black of crows, the blue-black of rooks,
and the chough near Lochinver
flying upside down for the hell of it.
And the blackbird (not a corvid),
that stays close by me as I weed,
lining up worms in his golden beak.
These Times | |
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A Covid-19 sequence by Paula Jennings | |
Hands | Poem by Paula Jennings |
Hard Day | Poem by Paula Jennings |
On the Hall Floor | Poem by Paula Jennings |
Permitted Daily Exercise 1 | Poem by Paula Jennings |
Permitted Daily Exercise 2 | Poem by Paula Jennings |
Permitted Daily Exercise 3 | Poem by Paula Jennings |
The Name of the Virus | Poem by Paula Jennings |
These Times | Poem by Paula Jennings |