Spare vests and pants of yesteryear
are now accompanied by fear –
for are the correct chargers there
(and that reminds, night malt required)
for laptop, puffs and scooter, phone?
Sufficient tablets for the stay,
each waking, morning, tea time, night,
back-up in case, for some delay,
(though kids, their tablets anyway),
and tonic, diet, to wash down,
plus stockings, cream, in place of socks
which do not pressure, give support?
Some silk-patched sheets to turn at night,
to block my falling out of bed,
though dawning, high jump skills required –
a scissor kick, believe it’s called –
to lift both legs above the steel,
negotiate, ground threatened slide.
Mobile, for one not moving round –
it’s used, alarmingly, pill-time –
at least no I-phone – just not me,
though vapes that seem to dull the aches
with refills, menthol nicotine.
The fish, well-fed, timed heat and light,
for neons flash, short power cut –
a week’s long time, aquaria –
like politics; priorities,
replanting weed and netting dead,
unless one first puts kettle on,
remembering the socket’s off.
Such baggage comes with this PD,
the stick, blue badge, and RADAR key –
you know, the loo, I mean to say –
that scooter, battery on charge –
at folks who saunter in the way.
I scribbled checklist, envelope –
can’t read my quiver writing, still
fruit, veg means I’ve mixed shopping list,
though marrow useful for the bones.
So frankly, half-term, dusted down,
I can recline, feet raised on high
with buttons, plugs for chair, TV,
such great relief, back home, to be.
Used by permission of the author.