Sunday, 15 January 2017

poetry 2017 - 012

On the Offering of News

hands clasped
waiting for direction
or judgement.
A downward gaze out of respect
and a little fear.
Life was less fraught than this, once,
and more stressful at others.
The skin of her hand itches
the base of her thumb
where the scar reminds her of Twitchy,
her sister's rabbit fifty years ago,
she wants to scratch it.
Curls her toes instead.
Her mind wanders until she recognises a lull in speech.
Aural memory fills in the blank
and she bobs a curtsey.

The relief floods her bladder
She wants a wee
but duty is not done.

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