Trees scratch at the panes with bony branches
Tap away time, and its second chances.
Strange. This bed is disused, a saved-for-best
Mentality, a housewife’s favourite test
Of pride. Endurance. She walks in with clean
Linen, smiles, her lips overstretched and lean.
I remember when she was full, bee-stung,
Fat with time, children like sticks to her drum.
We must use what we have of forever,
To wash away tears, sweep out together
Our hospital-corner anxiety. But
She cannot stay: our cord is too cut.
We corner the fold, hand on hand, forget
The time we have used, the time we have yet.

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