Sunday, 9 September 2012

The Caller

Lying there waiting hour by hour
in hope that the certain may change
among callers and carers moments pass
as one secretly desires some exchange

The visitor calls with nothing to say
finding rhythm by drumming on knees
humming along to invisible tunes
feeling bankrupt whilst trying to please

Though it slows down the moments
the caller reflects images of personal pain
a visit devalued by self interest’s defeat
forcing silence to scream once again

When visiting the sick and desperately ill leave duty in the trash can outside. If when you arrive you have nothing to say 
then at least avoid platitudes like: “And how are we today?

1 comment:

  1. Well observed and very well written....Excellent piece...x