Last round (a poem)

A quiet afternoon…

Chemical crispness
settling upon my tongue
we spend our afternoons in hospital
we’re no longer young

‘Can we have a chair by the window?
It’s cold today, but there’s sun’

The page breaks in this book
come in odd places
I know all the words
and remember most of the faces
but can barely read them anyhow

The fog has descended
here on floor number four
I’m tired, but after this
I won’t have to do it anymore

For now, I’ve got my chair by the window
It’s cold today, but there’s sun

(24 January 2019)

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