Clothes placed on

A plastic chair

One shoe on top

The other isn’t there

 

Bones creak

And lungs groan

Skin blushes blue 

As the old queen

Struggles to sit

On her throne

 

‘Where is my book,

hand bag and purse?

Is it dark outside?

How does it all work?’

 

‘It’s dark?

Curtains are open

Without a light

They’ll know, you know

Please draw them

On your way home

And put on a light’

 

‘When am I coming home’, she sighs,

Have they said?’

‘Soon, I say’, ‘soon’

As I stroke her head

 

With no hands there

To soothe or calm

Another hand

Stroked her head 

Out of hours,

In the dark

 

Clothes placed on

A plastic chair

She doesn’t need them now

She isn’t there.

 

Lynn Hamilton - 29th July 2013