SUNDAY AFTERNOON

The distant Welsh panorama fades
Into the grey mistiness
Of another cold, dark Winter's day.
From the sixth floor,
A serpent of light crawls
Along the perimeter of the Mersey -
A sign that the world is still inhabited!
Here, suspended between heaven and earth,
All is silent save for the repetitive beeping
Of life-saving machines.
Someone coughs,
Figures move backwards and forwards,
Distant voices float
From the nearby nursing stations.
It is a time for reflection -
Time to look back on the week's happenings,
But equally as important,
Look forward positively, to whatever lies in store.
It is in this friendly, intense calm
That mysterious bonds are woven,
Some of which will last into the unknown future.
Others, which will be like seed
Scattered on the stony ground.
Once replete, salved, comforted,
The dwellers of Ward 6A
Will settle, disparately,
To pass the long, dark night,
We pray, in hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Eileen Murray © February 2022