Shielding.
Its beautiful today,
blue skies and sun dazzling snow.
Children sledging and
shaping snow into fun creations.
Their calls and screams a joyful burst
in a long lockdwon winter.
They don’t notice me.
That’s me there, across the road
behind the window.
My social calendar is empty, bar the NHS.
My “walks” with friends were highlights
Until the bitter east winds came.
“Stay in” calls resound.
And snow is not the place for the vulnerable.
I’ve done my share of sledging,
skating on thin ice ( ahem)
and building lifeless snowmen.
Instead I huddle in doorways.
The offical photographer
for photos I never appear in.
Shielding they call it.
I’m at risk of the virus
that haunts us each night
on the news I try to avoid
but cant.
I’ve been in ICU before
it terrified me with
drug induced nightmares,
ventilators that silence the voice
and drain the soul.
It’s utter dependence
and fear.
So I’m shielding you see.
That’s me over there
behind the window,
awaiting vaccines
and the post-pandemic spring,
whenever it comes.
Audrey Birt February 2021
