Place of smells and silence
Of faces and paper
A haze of care
Lift The Patient
The Patient Is Lifted
Handflighted into bed
I can't resist
Lift The Patient
The Patient Is Lifted
Sink featherlight forever into sheets
Drift into conversations with someone.
In the rain
Two fat pigeons snuggle in.
I perch to shit on a tea tray
In the night count drips of saline
Invaded by fear
Memories of blood and light.
The old man in the bed next door shouts " Joanna!"
At least I think it was him.
