Becoming

No icon to you but to us.

Pulling her trolley up Gloucester Rd

like the old woman from Punch.

Answering back like Dandy Nicholls.

Sitting on a wall in her flapper dress,

off to a tea dance to meet my grandad.

Doing three cleaning jobs at once

until her fingers were bent with arthritis.

Doing whatever nursing she could

although her father hadn’t let her train.

Off to the old people’s home

to look after the old folk

who were probably younger than her.

Losing her mother when she was three.

Losing three children.

Never losing her memory.

​Feeding the pigeons in front of the sign

by the Bristol North Baths that said

Do not feed the pigeons.

Irish parents.

Made in Bristol.

Made by adversity.

Made by the strength to keep going,

pulling her trolley up Gloucester Rd.

Becoming a Samaritan in her old age.

Becoming herself.