A poem in memory of my grandmother Mary (Muriel) Peacock.
I hope that all you believe has come true.
You deserve it.
Minutes tick away in jolts of angst.
Regret, guilt, and apprehension,
All throng to the beat of a wheel on tarmac.
A visit of duty, a duty of care.
Is the duty mine and do I
Care enough? The look of pleasure and
Appreciation is too much to bear, too grateful.
Those eyes whose confusion melts
Into a loving glow stoked from years
Lost in quiet and familiar unconditionality
Express too much too freely.
Hands worn smooth by aged cold-creams
Compelled by hiccoughs of the brain to rest withered on the pane
Grip with a strength of eloquence. A war-time
Wedding ring presses the words, I knew you’d come.
But I didn’t
Want to and I didn’t come
Often enough and now
The selfish love chokes my own tongue and I can’t
Repay that gentle trust with more than banalities.
A one-sided conversation of cats
Weathers quickly and lunch-time trivia shave but seconds from
A life too long-lived and is it too soon to flee, is my duty done?
Yours is. Now. And so well met.
And my final task, my final journey is to
A different place of rest.
But my chideful companions ride with me still, and more,
As we compete in shrill voice to mime
A goodbye that was born years ago by
Ruptured vessels in your brain and buried
Today to the stuttering tattoo of my heart.