Appointment

Letters come in a threat
Reminders that the benign can become malignant
The feelings brushed under the carpet resurface again
I want to stick my head in the sand
But it is not I who will be hurt if I do;
Our voices become loud when we speak for others
More so than when we speak on behalf of ourselves

Convalescent

Sometimes all I can do is throw you things
Sweets and magazines, photos and kisses
I’m not sure what will lift your lethargy
That acceptance of the inevitable
But I want you for a moment to smile
I want you to be reminded that you are loved
And that I think of you
Even if you must think of nothing

Belief

During a crisis, I once asked my mother if she were ever happy
And with shaking voice, she replied she had never been
Since she married my father
My heart plummeted
Would I suffer the same fate?
But it must be a lie
These photographs show a woman, young and content
Brimming with joy and love for the children in her arms
How easily we believe
“We will never be happy again”
When we are sad