Day four and the visitors are leaving soon. Tonight is Poetry Cafe, first, physiotherapy at the hospital, ideas and memories come together while walking through the sliding doors. This weekend I hope to catch up with everyone who has popped in over the first week. Maybe next week I will rewrite some of this week. Perhaps that would be cheating?
Window down, I breathe visibly into the air,
the sun is shining, the sky winter ice blue
even though the clocks went forward.
Cars and people come and go,
some injured, in pain causing limps
or lowered heads, grimaces
and the only noise comes from planes
overhead, landing or taking off.
I start the car, head home, listening
carefully to the hourly traffic report.
Behind, getting smaller in the mirror,
the hospital is peaceful.