By | 1 February 2019

She’s glad the cleaner comes each week to natter
about this and that as she busies round the house –
mainly inconsequential stuff, but it’s a change from him

and a distraction from the pain of crumbling bones,
the heart attack, and a gut intolerant of pills.

Her Buddhist friends drop round for tea and a chat
when she can’t get to pujas, or – if she’s fit enough
to trundle her trolley out – take her for coffee and a cake.

They always make her eyes conspicuously bright –
and the breaks give him some precious time to write.

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