TOMORROW

TOMORROW 

By Sis Unsworth 

John did so hope for tomorrow, or the day after that may still do,

but how to live through the present, he really didn’t have a clue.

He’d gone and caught Covid last Monday, standing at the local bar.

Now he was in full isolation, just for enjoying a jar.

All day he stared through the window, hoping to catch someone’s eye,

his house was so far from the pavement, he felt he wanted to cry.

He didn’t mind being alone there, he quite liked his own company,

He had his old tom-cat there with him, he stroked him on his knee.

It wasn’t isolation that got to him, the one thing he really did fear,

He must be okay by tomorrow; he was down to his last can beer.

 

Copyright Sis Unsworth