
As humanity sits in lockdown
Seemingly hibernating
Time standing still the world and tides rise and fall
And for many life goes on almost unabated
The fisherman returning of the flood tide after another night alone on the Celtic Sea
The flood tide filling the river and spreading out over the salt marsh
For the fisherman every night is social distance
Alone with on the end less waves, the sky and sea birds for companionship
The tides of time go on ebbing and flowing like the water round the old wreck
Ebbing and flowing in time less motion
Last night over the Celtic Sea the Easter Pink Supermoon rose
In a sort of bright isolated orb in the darkness
Casting it’s beam like a stream of rose gold
Like it has for millenea.
And the tides keep turning