Today’s poem

NAMING OF TIERS

(With apologies to Henry Reed)

Today we have the naming of tiers. Yesterday, We had self-isolation. And tomorrow morning, We shall have what to do after redundancy. But today, Today we have naming of tiers. The Clyde Glistens like cobras among the neighbouring suburbs, And today we have naming of tiers. This is the lowest prognosis. And this Is the highest prognosis, whose words you will hear When you turn on the telly. And this is the final ending, Which in your case you have not got. The cities Hold their breath, waiting for the ending, Which in their case they have not got. This is the safety jab, repeatedly promised With an easy flick of the tongue. And please do not let me Seeing anyone doubt it. You can do it quite easily If you have any sense in your head. The Members of Parliament Are terrified, motionless, never letting anyone see Any of them being ineffectual. And this you can see is the mask. The purpose of this Is to close up your mouth, as you breathe. We can slide it Rapidly upwards and downwards: we call this Wearing the mask. And rapidly upwards and downwards The numbers of positive tests are vaguely guessed at: They call it testing and tracing. They call it the Covid-19 fight. It is perfectly easy If you switch on the telly and take in the news. And the science and the coloured graphs and the baffling speeches Which in our case we have a lot. And the natural world Goes on its merry way, cheerfully oblivious to The day we have the naming of tiers.

Una Dowding, Hucclecote, Glos.