You’re our oldest sister
and you’ve always been boss.
We’re finding it hard watching your memory loss.
We know there are times
you are lucid and clear
So let me sort out some
important things for you, dear.
It has been months since
Margaret got back from Rome
And Karen does have a
craft room built onto her home.
I doubt Denis had Mum
trowelled in with the mortar
And Rod lied about Fiji –
he won’t fly over water.
But Trish was never
planning to catch a train.
You’re losing your hearing
as well as your brain.
They are waiting for rain
all over the nation
And she’s doing it tough
on her huge cattle station.
Don’t think for a moment
Cecily’s buying an urn.
She always thinks we have
family to burn.
She’ll leave Mum’s ashes
in a bag in a drawer
And they’ll slowly drift
out and get swept from the floor.
I know Frank got his email
and Tony as well
Keith will have known,
it’s Frank’s job to tell.
You assured us you
mentioned only ten at the time
As thirteen is hard for
rhythm and rhyme.
You named all the sisters
and some of the others.
Do you remember the names
of your eight lovely brothers?
If they’ve been onto
Facebook and checked out your poem
They’ll think you’ve
forgotten that you’ve ever known them.
In case you’re losing your
marbles and I’m afraid it is so
I’ll tell you the others
so that next time you will know.
There’s Barry and Terry
and Brian – that’s three
And one of them, darling
sister, is actually me.
I hope this is all part of someone else's tale
And you didn't get the urn at an op shop sale.
I understand that your memory's increasingly bad
But even you must know Mum's buried with Dad.
(A possible response from a neglected brother)
I hope this is all part of someone else's tale
And you didn't get the urn at an op shop sale.
I understand that your memory's increasingly bad
But even you must know Mum's buried with Dad.
(A possible response from a neglected brother)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for your feedback.