the days soften into each other like marshmallow

fourteen days, they say
we lock ourselves in
and trap another who lucked out 
(or in)
by staying over

it's not too bad with room for all
it's the little things though
you don't think of
but neighbours do

surprise bundles of food
bring tears held back
and joy to beige days

knock at the door
heralds the dog walkers
she bounds back in 
with air fresh from the world 
and we breathe it in
like its gold

week one blurs to two
we lose count of days
asking each other 
is it tuesday?
wednesday?
mondays?

the days have softened
into each other
like marshmallow

I knit 
I write
I work
I sleep

I dream
I'm in lockdown
and wake
into quarantine

quarantine ends
lockdown
feels like 
freedom