The shoppers wear masks.
You say it’s as if everyone
has spent the lockdown
partying late into the night,
only now emerging
in sunlight. Blinking,
exhausted, overwhelmed
by all the sudden noise.
The traffic, the clouds.
A barge passing slowly
through an open lock.
You shout with sudden nostalgia
for streets we have not seen
in months. We eat our picnic
in the park watching topless boys
perform on their scooters,
a dog playing with a fallen
tree branch. You turn your bike
down a path we’ve never
noticed before. The dark dapple
of woods by the canal whisper
this is what it is to fall back
in love with the world,
to be held in the soft flow of water.