Since May, you have been sending us your photos and words to help us capture life in Oldham during the pandemic. Here, David Ryder shares a poem he wrote during the first Lockdown in 2020.
Rarely used for many years,
the front room Is now a virus resistant, chaste, space.
I await my daughter’s daily discourse.
A dry wasp, on its back, legs in the air,
Lies on the window ledge,
Dead from its blistering head-long attack
On an invisible isolating shield.
In a narrow black vase are bluebells
Wrung from the rain-wet garden.
Their perfume, not yet sickly-sweet, fills the room.
Yellow euonymus complements their fading colour.
A single leaf has fallen into a dust loaded, spider web,
The gleaming surface, the texture of soft leather,
Its vibrant yellow discordant with a centred lime green frond,
As if one leaf layered on another.
Time enough to see. Time to notice
The unfinished painting, waiting
For the final touches.
That’s something I’ll do when this is all over.
David Ryder is a member of member of the Oldham U3A Creative Writing Group. He submitted his poem via Oldham’s Lockdown Museum. The image at the top of the page is a hoverfly which was photographed by Phil Kenyon.