Breakfast in Lockdown 'At the still point, there the dance is.' T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets Each day kicks off the same, so here you sit looking out to the garden and beyond, with one ear tuned to morning news the other to the birds-- a thoughtful time when

Breakfast in Lockdown
'At the still point, there the dance is.' T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

Each day kicks off
the same, so here you sit
looking out to the garden
and beyond, with one ear
tuned to morning news
the other to the birds--
a thoughtful time when
it would be easy to forget
what you know lies beyond
the limits of your vision.

Between angled roofline
and treetops, the horizon
is a rift of sky
pencilled in with blue, until
two pelicans, as white
as passing clouds
soar into view. Wingtip
to wingtip, legs trailing
they rise and fall, exultant
on the updraught, taking
you with them to where
sky and water are one.