By Katie-Alice Constant
Quarantine had formed its skin
Over my house
Until snow cracked through its epidermis,
Like hermits we tentatively step out.
Snow under my feet
And then down my back
Laughing and screaming
The dog bounding, kicking and rolling,
Memories fall thick and fast;
Of snow days and time off work.
Now we have ourselves another great day
To get away from sticky hands
That bind, run and numb up with the weather,
Hours that are glued, plastered and moulded together.
Joyous hollers can’t be dumbed or gobbled by quarantine’s rough edged tongue.