I sense the sadness
‘Testimony of the Untested’, a daily lockdown poetry series by Robert Alan Jamieson, who is in recovery from a corona-like virus. You can read his other works here.
*
New-leaf trees can almost mask
loss that lingers, a mist among them.
They do not care a twig
what humans carry round within
those silly little heads –
news of illness, death, the ache
of separation, all irrelevant.
Birds fly in, and birds fly out.
The higher skies are silent.
Below, the humans wander,
avoiding touch as if it were
forbidden in this slow dance.
They smile and nod, turn their faces
to the trees that sway, regardless.
But I sense their sadness.
We are supported only by our readers. We don't have corporate backers and we don't take advertising, so we rely entirely on your support.
Help to support independent Scottish journalism
It is beautiful, like hearing a cello all the way from Shetland. A poem about survival and scale and humility from one of Scotland’s most lyrical and hardy poets.