• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 10

Ballet Through The Pandemic

In the darkest days of lockdown our
“Swan Lake” in the theatre was bolted, shut

after months of intense practice needing
an outlet for our limbs with our minds.

Couldn’t redirect to football stadia as
precious players were kissing and hugging

or outside malls and supermarkets for
the long lines hadn’t yet evaporated

though we considered pebble beaches but
they’re overrun by day trippers, and booze.

So we decided to go al fresco all
the company performing at a farm, at once.

No pink tutus or painted scenery just
black ppe under sirius and sun

practising social distancing strictly
pirouetting at two metres apart, or more

observed by seven sheep and a tractor but
ignored by horses, pigs and brown cows.

There we danced in concentric circles to
the silence of lambs, and all others.


Ballet Through The Pandemic

No prime-time television to record us for
posterity and sale of surplus product.

Is this dance arts of our future or
can it be “A Midsummer Night's Dream”?