When We Were In Lockdown
In the yellowed skies
translucent with ivory stars
there lay peace.
I sat on the back door steps
staring up at constellations
mapping my destiny; so far away
like shivering lights.
Moonlight blankets the garden
with graceful light.
Come, come the winters call,
The squall yet to arrive.
Cold, cold dew the morning
call of garden life.
Silence engages me best
here on the back door steps,
at twilight hour.
by Robin McNamara © 2020
Robin McNamara Poet 