The revelling crowd reduced to one
In bed with his computer on.
The breakfast beer cans strewn around
And egg smeared on his dressing gown.
The facebook video played at six …
Some tweeting birds, a choirboy mix,
Recorded several days before,
Each choirboy stood alone, unsure –
How weird it was to sing alone!
But digitised they found their tone –
The virtual choir sang Latin Prayers –
Protected from the germ purveyors.
‘… Immensum hoc mysterium
Ovante lingua canimus’.
He listened and quite unrehearsed
The tears came naturally at first.
He missed the solidarity,
He missed the man dressed as a tree*,
He missed the champagne on the grass,
He missed the chance to make a pass,
He threw himself into a heap
Began to blubber and to weep:
He missed the Leeds star Norman Hunter
Killed by the virus – six feet under.
He missed the Stranglers Keyboard player
For both of them he said a Prayer
And worst of all he might succumb
Before his old man and his mum.
* leader of Oxford University Morris Dancers comes dressed as a tree to May Morning
Theme for Abingdon Share a Poem in May is May and I wrote this after watching https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEBsmxAfGiY