Two Poems

This is where we say goodbye.
The long hospital corridor.
The nil-by-mouth.

This is where it ends.
The airport, doorstep, doctor’s waiting room,
the recruitment interview;
the passing out parade.

Going, going, gone, the clocks repeat,
already imagining a distance.

This is where
something stays shut inside.
This is where.

My father says
that one day soon
he will go for the long sleep.
He’s eighty four, he can’t go forever,
and he gets tired of it all he says;
all the visits to doctors
and his teeth dropping out.

My father says his leg aches
where he fell downstairs and tore the ligament,
after a party at the local pub,
when he played his concertina.

My father says the world isn’t what it was in his day
It’s spoiled, we’ve buggered it up
beyond repair.

My father says 
we’ll be better off without him,
when he is pushing up daisies.

Then he dons his panama and goes out
into the garden to plant new flowers
where the rabbits have eaten them away,
mow the two acre lawn and write
a letter to his friend
about the history of the tango.

My father says that one day soon
he will go for the long sleep,
but not today, and not tomorrow
while there are things to do,
but maybe the day after
or the day after that.

I’m delighted that these poems have found an audience!
Thank you, Poetry Kit.

You may also like

M. V. Williams
The Marsh People
The King of Neverwas a poem for our time. (Never mind BREXIT)
Endgame – almost.

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