Why, they ask, was the gathering wrong,
Just a few people for not very long?
Happy Birthday with a slice of cake –
It seems their rules are theirs to break.
On Fridays at 4 they held Wine Time,
For the rest of us that would be a crime,
Empty bottles piled up in those bins,
Offer yet more proof of lockdown sins.
It all began with the Brexit bus,
Promising aid to our NHS,
Bold phrases fuelled by repetition,
Key details lost by subtle omission.
Rejecting the notion of ‘Lacking trust’,
Politicians prefer to be ‘Levelling up’, with
‘World-beating stats’ and ‘Record highs’,
Even as Covid continues to rise.
I watch it on TV:
Another hurricane hits,
Floods sweep away lives,
Fires wipe out forests.
My cat sits by the window,
Excited to see the rain fall.
How much time did we spend online,
Creating our Covid message mine!
Just a few words, so easy to send,
The way to stay in touch with friends.
We quickly learnt how and what to post,
The chatty ones usually said the most.
Shared our thoughts on books and TV,
Did you see last night’s Strictly?!
Uploaded photos, or short video logs,
Of feeding our cats and walking our dogs,
Some even taught themselves to bake,
Cue that pic of a perfect pancake.
You fed me with a spoon that day,
For the first time. A tear in your eye,
Delight at that memorable milestone,
And all those yet to come –
Such as learning to talk and handle a fork.
Then, I’d make that walk to school and see
My world open up in the blink of an eye.
All guided by you, my loving mum.
It all looks so different today,
that smoking charcoal block,
now pale, swathed in creamy
covers rippling in the breeze.
At the top, the banner of green:
Grenfell Forever in Our Hearts.
The words descend in silence,
stirring memories of that night.