We Remember

We remember We remember we could follow swifts while winging to and fro across clear skies. We could hear each bird when singing and watch them as they hopped nearby. We remember we could hear the humming of the bees, dipping from each flower to flower, and winds soft whistling through the trees, soft patters of the passing shower. We will remember newspapers dropped beside the doorstep. Coins in wallets, not spent in shelf bare shops. Starred skies above the darkened silhouette of quietened city’s roofline tops. We had forgotten steel on steel of trackside screeches, clack as wheels pass down the track. Commuting trains more crowded coming, traffic's roar now creeping back. We had forgotten approaching engine's growing sound making garden talk retreat, while overhead the turbine's pound reverberates right to our feet. We will not forget each new day's total death toll tally, and urgent pleas for ppe. The clapping at each Thursday rally with neighbour's distant waving greet. Today while walking comes the sound of distant coughing, someone moves to cross the street. Youngsters sunbathe, huddled, laughing, neighbours stop to smile and greet, another, masked, maintains six feet. .