My Lockdown Freedom
By: Cleo Felstead
About The Poem
In lockdown I stopped rushing about trying to fill the time I have with my 3 year old son with external entertainments like soft plays and play groups. We stayed at home and made our own fun. It was simple and beautiful (mostly!). This poem was inspired by this and a feeling that staying close to home and focusing on what was immediately around me, as apposed to chasing some external distant gratification, was a little like living in a tribe – everyone having their role to play and contributing. I liked that feeling.
Close to home
Cocooned away from social constructs
Here my worth is not what I earn
Here my worth is being part of a tribe.
Contributing to the circle.
Crouched in dirt, knees bent
Circled by flames
Living out this very moment.
Dens, long grasses, lego houses, fallen leaves,
Boiled broth and hunting for beasts.
Resting on damp tree stumps
Moss growing to the North.
No future to fret
No past to drag
In my tribe.
One of us tip taps away upstairs
Working his way
Across the digital airwaves
Bringing home the bacon.
But I, mother, sit with our young
Under stitched together threads
Scattering voices amongst a herd of soft toys
Watching torch light dash across our back lit den
And I have my chance
A lockdown freedom to warm by the fire.
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