Lullaby by Ross Thompson, written in Bangor during 2020 Lockdown
Tomorrow, we will wake to a green light
pouring out like wine from a cracked ewer,
spreading across freshly laundered sheets,
tickling our chins like butterflies in flight.
We will stir gently. The hum of the street
will cradle us as the new day resets
with gentle fingers caressing our skin,
whispering promises of safe footsteps
as we forge into the day, hopefully,
bravely, arms like topsails between the sun
and North Wind, braced for impact as we sprint
headlong into the as yet uncharted