Light drizze, we walk out in the yard
he bids me sit down on a bench
it's like a film
the nurses keep an eye
people shuffling across the floor
arms limp by their sides
the air is still, he looks muted
as if someone switched him off
it's the medication, he tells me
I know.

He says he's been writing a lot
he wrote me letters
and gave them to his sister, for safekeeping
doubt I'll ever see them
He asks about me: how was my day?
to remove oneself...
from the suffocating silence, the still air
the hapless shuffling across the floor

Of course he wants me
it's in his eyes, his tentative movements
all the time
and I'm terrified of giving in
of resorting to the comfort of his familiarity

I select and fold his clothes
his smell is lingering
his scent - God forbid
my breathing in
had told myself I was done
with the mothering

Then the hurt,
the sheer hurt
if I let him down...


© Cecilia Danell 2011