Cubicle, Charity Shop

Mike Bell/ December 25, 2015/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments


She sat, side-on,
Unnoticed, except chat,
Mobile to head,
Hidden by hat:

‘Yes, that’s right,’
Her one-sided talk.
‘She doesn’t recall
her fall, on the walk.’

The cubicle, walled-in,
Compression of soul,
Her phone call’s distance
Puts Dementia on hold.

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