Poem for the pandemic year

Traffic noise died. 
Birdsong filled the silence.
It was Spring.
Blossom in every park and garden.
We stood on our doorsteps and clapped
The frontline fighting the pandemic.
We were glad to be alive. 

It is lockdown still.
The noise of traffic drowns the birdsong.
It is Spring.
Daffodils waver in the wind.
Rain beats on the windows.
The only silence is a minute for the dead
We honour with lights beside our doors.