By Laura Owens

We arrive together
But this ticket admits only one.
Wish me luck.

Alone I embark
Through aisles arranged in a maze,
Through aisles designed to faze,
Regular lines at my feet denote a hazard yet to transpire.

Faces obscured-
Obscure faces.
My eyes meet no others.

And rush
And then swerve again
And then stop…
And repeat,
Like a broken rhythm, endless and unsatisfying.

Rows, empty of milk,
But brimming with guilt
And the air is so solemn,
I just want to go and
Where are you?
I wish I wasn’t alone.

“Sorry for the wait.”
Or is she sorry for the weight,
The burden thrust upon us all?

At least now it’s over.
I spot your face,
Unobscure and unobscured,
Across the lot.

Lucky you!
It’s your turn next week.


Originally from the North of England, Laura Owens (she/her) is a 3D animator now working in the South. A keen baker and crafter, she is currently building a collection of poems inspired by a recent trip to Iceland. Follow her on Instagram @laurabethowens and Twitter @laurabethowens.

This poem is a part of the DISTANCED project.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s