Trelawnyd @ Night

 

I have slept most of the day 

The virus’ worst day 

I took the Welsh out for a proper walk late on

It was well after 9 pm 

This never happens now.

But they needed the outing.

Every house I knew had a light on, curtains drawn  . Mrs Trellis the only exception, as she was playing her piano at the window, her tongue out of the side of her mouth in concentration .

The Randa’s cottage had flowers in the windows as always and the Hoose’s, Smith’s, Richard’s, Ackroyds, ,Velvet voiced Linda’s cottages were little pools of colour and light in the dark and the cold . 

I saw no living person , not one apart from Trellis 

But I felt their lives behind glowing windows and solar light in the garden. 

Even the pub looked quiet and closing and no one except me and Mary ( Roger typically missed it) saw a large vixen totter up High Street , her head held high 

We walked home and the Turpin house and Margaret’s bungalow on London Road looked cheerful, and welcoming as did the the little semicircle of houses on Rhodfa Arthur. 

Someone has hung solar fairy lights around the lytchgate of the Church 

( Islwyn?) 

And the walk home was gently illuminated by Christmas lights 

How sweet