Day 11

It’s not exactly what was set, I suppose, probably not abstract enough (or at all) but it’s what came to me after about the third attempt to write something. Not thought of a title but will think on…


Ten o’clock and it seems like you’ve finally settled.
I put my feet up and open a bottle of wine,
top it up again before I even leave the kitchen.
Sweating, I turn the heating down,
sit down in the half light,
no inane tv or tuneless singing,
just a blessed silence.
The tidying can wait –
I pointedly ignore
food stains on the chair,
a drink trail across the floor.
Our days run to your schedule:
mealtimes, toilet times, sleep times,
your time.
Sometimes I just want it to be mine.
Dawn is breaking as I am woken suddenly
by mumbled cries through the monitor.
I drag myself groggily from the chair,
take a breath before coming in
to wash, change and dress you,
my mother.


2 thoughts on “Day 11

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