AuthorCraft is Locked Down in Croydon

There’s tumbleweed in Croydon Road

Where traffic used to be

On Purley Way the cars are gone

It’s eerie as can be

The postman still walks past the house

But now no longer calls

Our heads are down

We dare not speak across our garden walls

In Waddon Ponds, my local park,

The ducks all want for bread

The gates are closed

The keeper gone

No life inside his shed

No more do local dogs walk round

To sniff each others bums,

The swings are still

No shouts of gleee

No calling for their Mums

The  joggers too have gone away

With headphones on their head

No cheery waves, no called ‘Hellos’

Who knows what lies ahead

The dreaded Corvid is the cause

Of this catastrophe

The threat is real, although unseen,

Who knows where it could be?

They say ‘wear masks’

Though none are here

They say stay home all day

For me the biggest thing of all

Is to be without my pay.

© 2020 Chris Day