The house is quiet
except for the turned down
drone of the television.
His snores have quietened
he sits in his chair
open mouthed, dribble on his chin;
eyes closed, lashes rest on waxen skin.
I look to see the rise and fall
of his chest,
I discern no movement.
My heart pounds
pain rips through me…
His eyes pop open and I jump back.
He smiles at me
“You look tired” he says “ why don’t you rest?”
I take a tissue and wipe away the dribble
“ I’ll make you a cup of tea first” I answer.