Just Visiting Poem by David Taylor

She sits there anxious, eyes dark
and sunken, reflecting heart.
Not much to say as the days pass by;
they do not talk that much at home,
his hearing aid often switched on, but low.
After more than one week of visiting hours
three to five then six to eight and not one day
was she late; to say very little,
'what did you have for breakfast,
have they given you your medicine,
what did the doctor say today.
When will you come home'

They discuss the holiday they had planned
in three weeks time but,
she had not really wanted to go
not liking flying and concerned about her health,
and now he lay in the hospital bed.
'Well' he says 'perhaps we could change the date
to September, it shouldn't be too hot in September.'
Anything you want she thinks,
I just want you back home, you could finish
painting the gnomes while I make some tea.