MEMORIES

She sits quietly in an armchair, in her usual place
Unseeing; hearing nothing but the beating of her heart.
Fine lines like dainty cracks in a porcelain cup
Adorn her thin and frail, unmoving face;
Aged voices all around, some hoarse, some shrill -
But she seems uncomprehending, worlds apart.

Then suddenly her head tilts back;
A sweet smile lights her face and pale blue eyes;
She seems not ninety now, but sweet nineteen -
Then struggles painfully to rise; gets up,
Limps to the window across the room and stands
Pressing her nose to the cold, dark pane.
She waves; her lips move but she does not speak;
Head nods to answer questioners unseen.
But soon she stops, and wrings her hands,
Sobs: ‘Don’t leave me all alone again: Please, stay!’

The sparkle in her watery eyes has gone;
A rivulet of tears runs down her arid cheek.
Kind nurses lead her back to her armchair.
Once more she sits in quiet solitude,
While memories like a silent film flicker in her brain;
As she tries to hold on to each long gone day,
With its hopes of heaven and fears of hell;
Remembers the birth and death of her firstborn
As she strains to pull back each dear ghost –
But soon they all have quietly slipped away.

Her grey head droops again, once more an empty shell
Yet her anguished cry still lingers in the air
And slowly fades until a silent breath remains
And is carried away on the gentle wind,
Like the final plaintive note of a bugler’s horn
Trying to recall our yesterdays with The Last Post.