By Samantha Stewart
The earth is stone.
The weight of the snow bends branches,
Some break.
The weight of isolation bends minds,
Some break.
Their hearts are stone.
Half a tomato?
The cost of poverty.
The weight of a portion,
No more no less.
Yet we keep going.
The spring will come.
And if their hearts won’t soften?
The weight will drag them under
Like the statues of the slavers.
And we will rise.
I live in Leeds and am a self employed musician. Currently scraping a living with online teaching. I am also a primary school governor and the recent food parcel scandal prompted this piece of writing as well as the feeling of being trapped by bad weather in lockdown.
The photograph is Armley Moor, common land next to my local High Street, deserted as the sun came up on Friday morning.
