At The Fountains After Lockdown Poem by Alan Sandham

I sit and watch the fountains dance.

Conducted by some programmed hand,
Two dozen jets, or more, some head-high,
Some barely off the floor,
Co-ordinated patterns in their play,
With children in the spray.

Pigeons, meanwhile, swoop and strut
As if celebrating that the Town is no longer shut.

Socially-distanced families sit and shout
At the children to come out
Of the spray,
But they are as if deaf, and stay.

Dogs, delirious at children's joys
Chase after: barking, in stiff-legged ploys
For attention. Ignored.

I, becoming bored
Stand and walk away.