Tuesday 12 February 2008

Nancy

Just before Christmas I visited her in the nursing home in my home town. She did not recognise me. Thinking about her today on my bike to work this poem came to me. She was everything you would want in a godmother - good listener, wisdom, fun. I could always go to her when my parents made no sense to me. She is Welsh from the valleys and so loves rugby and singing - the 3 tenors, Weslh male voice choirs etc.

Poem for my godmother

You don’t know who I am
It is so strange
Sitting her with you
You are delighted by this visit
From this youthful stranger
Me
I’m crying inside

You don’t know me
And our shared past
My past
Disappears

I leave you

I sob bitterly

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