I’m laying down the kylie
on his bed
turning back the sheets
my man is managing himself
in the shower
I record his observations
temperature and pulse
cup the pills for another medication round
routine morning in the ward
I’m standing in the broad beans
tying eggplants straight and tall
grubbing new potatoes
with my hands
when’s it going to rain again
feel how warm the soil
put a pumpkin seed in the ground
beneath the compost mound right there
he’s back beneath the sheets
had the shower now it’s time
to change the dressing on his arm
old folk’s skin seems to tear
at just a passing look
careful careful now
he’s paper frail
there’s just one cauliflower left
from winter
time to take it out
I’ll turn the whole bed over
ready to start again
a couple of shovels more
and it’s done
help him to turn over again
and we’re done
© Frank Prem, 2009
Daily Prompt: Frail
I especially liked the “cauliflower” part of it… so unexpected, and so endearingly nostalgic of my childhood’s kitchen!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely combination of two situations in this poem. Really enjoyed the contrast and the links there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Ali. I’m always struck by the capacity to split what is actually happening, perhaps unpleasently, with where the heart really lies at a given moment.
Something like that, anyway, LOL.
Cheers,
Frank
LikeLike
This hit home after recently visiting an elderly lady in hospital. Love the contract between the organic, earthy memories and the sterility of the ward.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Contrast obvs, not contract….goddamn thumbs ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
Trying to find a definition for “kylie” on the internet, but it is just page after page of Kylie Jenner. I’m guessing it is a rubber or plastic sheet? Lovely poem, but wondering about that word distracted a bit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t think KJ would appreciate the comparison! It’s an absorbent pad that goes on top of a plastic sheet, generally. A link here: https://ilcaustralia.org.au/products/101
LikeLiked by 1 person
thanks..
LikeLiked by 1 person
I perhaps should link the poem text to the description. Might do that later.
LikeLike
I think that’s a good idea. Whenever there is a word absolutely unknown, it can’t help but distract attention from the poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Agreed Judy. I’ll fix it.
LikeLike
Really like the floating between present and past (?). Not sure who is reminiscing – the attendant or the old man – but either works to draw contrast and remind us how life changes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks VJ. Slight timeshifts, but the contrast was what I was trying to highlight. Bizarre life, at times.
Delighted you enjoyed the piece.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, bizarre indeed. There is much to this poem to be considered. I also thought of how the caregiver is planting, nurturing the man.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In nursing we talk about reflective practice, but it doesn’t happen a lot. Not obviously, at least. This is the kind of thing that arises when it happens, I think.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I did reflective practice as a teacher too – never quite so poetically.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not enough reflection going on, if any.
LikeLiked by 1 person