One day at a time.

Those family portraits on the wall above her bed

She looks longingly at them, nothing is said

Peeling back the eiderdown, lies down to rest her head

Soon they’ll be around, this fills her with some kind of dread

Pampering time they call it

She would tell you in silent whispers – she thinks it’s sh*t

Do they have to – plump those pillows once again

Distribute medication for unseen pain

Why can’t I be left alone, fend for myself in my own home

That mirror reflection shows a different me

That smile is gone, my hair is grey, and my mind is addled. Glory be.

They’ve left the room now, it’s time for rest

Once again explained those photos, telling me I’m blest.

Poetry from The Man Shed

18/12/19