Where have the joggers gone?

Remember when the motorway went quiet?

When the planes didn’t boom,

When we were forced to spend life,

Inside one of three rooms.

Where some days the only noise was their footprints on the path,

And their cautious greetings to each other as they ran past.

Now the footpath is quiet,

The birds we can not hear.

But where have all the joggers gone?

Have they disappeared?

No they’re back in their cars.

Back in their meetings.

Back in the bars.

Back racing and rushing from this place to that.

Where are the joggers?

Will they come back?