About Me

Friday, 11 October 2024

Dimming the light fantastic


 

My parents are tiny now.

They have shrivelled and lost their minds;

separated for more than half a century and by over two hundred miles.

 

They live in nursing homes cared for by people who have travelled several thousand miles for a better life

of cleaning bums and serving small portions of food  to nonagenarians who think they are on cruise ships

or back at school

or dancing in the Tower Ballroom in smart suits and  spangled dresses.

'I could have danced all night'.

Quick stepping to the light fantastic as the tide comes in.

 

It's depressing to see them like this 

To see the look in their eyes.

The look of puzzled longing when I say goodbye, 

 

wondering if it will be for the last time.