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The Hospice, Christmas 2010

Jason Lewis' poem of loss and the losing is the end of Outsideleft's poetry day.

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by Jason Lewis, Reviews Editor for outsideleft.com
You gazed up with weary, puddle-damp eyes, that once burnt and shone like mine.
by Jason Lewis, Reviews Editor for outsideleft.com
You gazed up with weary, puddle-damp eyes, that once burnt and shone like mine.

The Hospice, Christmas 2010

There were grey double doors
at the end of the corridor,
where the light seemed
permanently dimmed.

I'd hear them swing occasionally
as another body was taken in.

As you lay there,
your once bold tattoos,
wrinkle smudged
like children's drawings.


All blunt crayons
and dried out felt tip pens.

You gazed up with weary,
puddle-damp eyes,
that once burnt
and shone like mine.

Now so dull
and anaesthetized.

That nurse’s smile
could have won awards,
her jocular asides,
played out to the patrons

of this theatre.

The business of days or weeks
discussed backstage

And both of us,
with reputations,
for talking far too much,
forgot all our lines

When time came
To be judged.

The shape of words
just snagged in my mouth.

And this was how
we spent our first
Christmas together
for over 30 Years

And now I replace one loss,
with another loss,
one vacuum,
with another vacuum

Another void beckoned you
from beyond the swinging doors.

Neither of us
had the strength
to consider how
we would say goodbye.

But when it came,
That overdue,
and final
'I love you'

So elegantly timed.

 

 


© 2020 Jason Lewis

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Jason Lewis
Reviews Editor

Jason Lewis is a Birmingham based music, movie and arts obsessive. Jason's encyclopedic knowledge of 80s/90s Arts films is a debt to his embedded status in the Triangle Arts Centre trenches back then.

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