Nan's Dying Again

My cousin phoned to say that Nan was dying. I wrote this poem as soon as I got back from saying my Goodbyes...It's not what you'd expect. when I finished I felt like I had released her somehow....

"Nan's dying again."

The voice fell on a deaf heart.

You see me and my Nan, we're better off apart.

But, I went to see her anyway;

to see if I had anything to say.

I peered around the door to see her foot clawed;

Talonous, petrified in a shard of rogue sun-light,

Ready to give even welcome visitors a fright.

I retreat for a minute, the heat, those feet,

It's too intense, I stop, regress to vague time before

in her kitchen, before the claws, before the wars.

Chicken noodle soup and dog hair mmm - my favourite.

It really was superb, no " it really was superb,

Like a Heinz advert, 'The Baxter Family does Shameless'.

I feel her ruffling my hair as she passes me more bread.

The fan freshens artificial air and pushes

the dust spatters at her desperate grimace,

gasping for air, longing for forgiveness.

Her unshuttered pupils track my face like radar

checking for any trace of mercy;

the white flags of her eyes fly, insisting me

to pardon this little, scared old lady,

melting into the bed.

A slither of pity.

I lean across to make sure that she can see

that I'm no longer angry, but it isn't easy.

I'm Seven again you see,

the soup already fading from memory.

From here on in I can just about to stomach to say

that the kindest thing my dear Nan ever did for me,

was lock me in a cupboard so I could

only hear her beat my Grandad mercilessly.

Grandad - an amputee, prone in his chair,

protective even in his despair,

I heard him beg her..."where is Shelly?"

I rub the liver-spot on her arm, and watch her skin crepe.

I know what it is she wants to say.

Desperately trying to talk to me,

grunting from the depths - her guilt runs deep.

"it's all okay now, you can just sleep".

And I'm back in her kitchen eating soup again,

and for the most fleeting of moments I'm three again.

She rests, the claws unclench, the grunting relents.

Peace descends for both of us.

It's over. Put to rest.  

Author's Note

all critique is welcome.... PLEASE be honest. I'm very curious to know what people think of this poem...I want it to make for uncomfortable reading but I'm worried that some of my references may be a little too 'personal' to translate to the general reader...

Reviews

[KT-B]

I laughed out loud at the "Baxter family does shameless" line, then obviously grew horrified at the revelations in later verse. This is uncomfortable reading but extremely cleverly done - There is something so refreshing about your writing I am a fan :)