Hungry and cold.

Hungry and cold.

Not what I thought it would be like

To be old.

Left in the dark on a narrow bed

In strange surroundings.

It is hard these days to find my bearings,

How could they have been so easily lost?

It is quite odd,

As I was proud of my

Sense of direction,

At least that is what remains

Of my recollection,

But so many things have now gone,

And so much

Of what might have happened

Is too painful to recall.

Some things stand out

From the jumble of shadows

That every now and then

Coalesce

And for just a moment I am blessed,

When I recollect the words you said

The last time we walked together.

In the park,

Holding hands

The two of us.

Down by the lake.

It could have been just yesterday

I suppose it was, in a way,

As these days all look the same

From a certain angle.

When was the last time someone came?

And what does it matter anyway

When the best things happened

So long ago they are

Close to being forgotten.

How can bingo and a sing song

Make up for all that has been lost?

It was the smell that took me back

The stewed tea and toast

Reminiscent of compost and sun dried leaves

And for just that moment

I believed you were still with me.

And now

That silly nurse thinks I love her.

Stupid cow.

The look on her face

As if I was soft in the head.

Or maybe she hoped

I was close to being dead.

Small mercies,

As you would have said,

Thank goodness for that,

They need the bed.