She couldn't talk any more,
that was the worst of it.
She couldn't talk
any more...
And she'd always loved to talk -
('Talk the leg off a chair'
Mum used to say)
she and her friends,
nattering over innumerable cups of tea
and scones (home baked)
round the kitchen table.
And later
in the nursing home,
she'd still talk
about the goings on of
this one and that one -
she couldn't remember their names
but it didn't matter -
Nobody minded.
But today
she looked at us
with such wide-stretched eyes,
trying so hard -
That was the worst of it...
Alison Cassidy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tony-s-mum/
