Grandma's Footsteps Poem by Maureen Pickford

She sits silently weeping in her high backed chair
The stench of stale urine is pervading the air

The young carer, a tight forced smile on his face, looms
Smile mutates to a grimace, he senses her mood

While he's gearing up for another graveyard shift
He wonders how his dismal life has come to this

He tries to picture the once young woman within
And steals himself to touch her flaky parchment skin

In a strange parody of 'Grandma's Footsteps' game
They shuffle off together with her walking frame

Later...

Tears all now dried and tucked up in bed
'Thank you sonny' she winningly said.