Forget Me Nots
The clock stood on the mantelpiece
Where it had always chimed
But the batteries had long since wilted
Stopped in between the time
Canary lay on sandpaper floor
No water or no seed
There was an air of quiet neglect
It had missed its final feed
No newspapers in the hallway
She must have cancelled these
As her world closed in to no more din
Of tradesmen she had no need
Some ashes in the fireplace
White and cold and grey
The poker lay across the fender
Left to poke another day
We’d found her resting on her arm
Sat at velvet tabled cloth
Her hankie tucked within her sleeve
A vase of ‘forget me nots’
No letter of explanation
Of these final lonely hours
As she sat and waited for the call
Of heavenly chorused choirs
We all had been too busy
Said we’d call another day
She seemed to manage fine alone
And so we did not stay
Something about that final hour
That beholds us all to chose
To take our final farewell calls
And not to miss the cues
davo
Home 
