I stand, hovering, behind you,

ready to take over, if needed.

You wheel yourself in the hospital wheelchair,

resisting my offers of assistance.

We pass doorways with patients in each room.

Different voices greet us,

giving a snapshot of lives interrupted by illness and injury.

Mum peers into each room, scanning for a familiar face.

”Hello Jean.”

”It’s the buttons that defeat me.”

”It’s my legs that let me down.”

”It’s always something.”


Each doorway offers a glimpse into another life.

Some will stay.

Some are simply passing through.

Doorways to another chapter of a life.

We feared you would never leave alive and now here you are

leaving to live a shrunken life, restricted.

A life where the world must come to your door as you look out your doorway,

always scanning for familiar faces.


◄ Dawn

Bodies ►


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