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Reader's letter: Poetic take on return to normal



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Now things are looking up at last,

I don’t even have to wear a mask,

I can see my grandson every day,

And don’t have to stay six feet away.

I can get my hair done, and my feet,

And chat to anyone in the street,

I can get on a train, or a bus,

And nobody there will make a fuss.

There’s a myriad things that I can do;

I can go to the shops, or the zoo.

I can go to the baths for a swim,

Or pay my subs and go to the gym,

I can eat a meal out every night,

And drink enough wine to get quite tight.

I can buy new clothes and shoes and bags,

(The clothes I have now are all in rags).

I wrote down all the things I could do,

And shuffled them so I hadn’t a clue,

Then I drew one out, what did it say?

“Go for a walk” which I do each day.

So, I didn’t even have to think,

I gathered my thing without a blink,

I picked up my mask and coat and hat,

My phone (in case I should fall down flat).

A stick to keep others well away,

So, I’ll live to fight another day. ­— R. PRATT, via email.



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