I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')


These poems are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.

20 April 2012

Home Alone


(Now he must go into care)

Suddenly —
now —
I live alone
as of shortly after lunch today
though I didn’t know it then.

Another fall
and he’s back in hospital
after one night and a morning
here with me.

I was with him,
helped him collapse
gradually to the ground
and so, no injury
this time. (Nor the last.)

Twice in three days
is too much —
the buckling of legs
that just stop working.
No loss of consciousness, just
inability to stand.
Sudden. Total. What if
I had not been there?

And I can’t lift him.
All I could do
was put a pillow under his head
and call the ambulance
again.

While he was away
yesterday and the day before
I shifted furniture
to make the place safer:
things he could grab and hold,
strong enough to support him.
I guess it was just as well.
He used one to lean on
while I helped him down
slowly to the floor.

I put clean sheets on the bed.
His last night home
was comfortable.

I bought some more Zero Coke
because he likes it.
But he didn’t even have
one glass last night.
He was so tired,
and went to bed early.

‘So nice,’ he said this morning,
‘To be in my own bed
in my own home.’
But lately it’s been hard for him,
I know.
So much weakness, 
so much pain.

So much more I wanted to do here
to make this place
beautiful, and kind to him.
Now, how empty
such improvements seem
for me alone.

April PAD Challenge #19: A life event.

2 comments:

  1. Oh, Rosemary, my heart breaks for you! I have been in your shoes. I send you prayers. Henrietta

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for your kindness. I need all the prayers I can get. I am sorry you too have experienced this anguish.

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