The Visitable Past

Cherry

By Ewan

Wed, 18 Nov 2020
  • 1550 reads
7 comments
 

I inoculate myself with photographs

of once-vibrant parents

younger than I am now.

 

These almost banish the memory

of my father’s husk;

immobile and staring

in an amyloid prison

papered with photographs

of the strangers called family.

 

For it is my mother’s turn

to feel the slipping

of words and time.

 

We conduct shouted phone calls weekly;

weakly understood, her deafness

thickens the inexorable fog.

 

Still, a clandestine visit

is occasionally made

but compassion is no visa

to cross plague-shut borders

where once none existed.

 

I must go,

while there is yet

a visitable past,

before she moves

to another country

I cannot reach by phone.

 

 

 

*The blurring of the accompanying image is deliberate.

 

 

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Comments

Submitted by lenchenelf on

Photos do offer a reservoir when parched, though never really slake a thirst.

very best wishes Ewan

Lena x

 

Submitted by marandina on

"Amyloid prison" sounds interesting and perpetual.

 

Submitted by Ewan on

is.

Author Page at the 'Zon
 

Submitted by marandina on

Ah. Not so good. On that word pivots the emotion of this poem. Moving and now even more personal. Paul

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Such a powerful and moving poem, as well as an excellent poem. And the last stanza! Rachel :)

 

Submitted by sean mcnulty on

Lovely poem. Short, but every word has an emotional punch

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Even without the travel barriers, there are the barriers of closeness and touch prohibition. Though that may not be so in a peronal house, but care homes have anguish to know what  to do with pressure from many quarters. Such difficulties are allowed to drop near death I think, but with hearing and sight difficulties, touch and hug can be strong communicators.  We have had to do hug signs, and the understanding of what they are conveyed successfully by a warm well-being assistant.

And letters with bg photos and big print, as sight is fair, but hearing for phone-calls hopeless.

Rhiannon