‘Left past the red lifts, then through the curtain, OK? ’
And there you were –
propped up on a bed of white pillows.
You looked so well
(and naked too under the hospital gown)
‘Hel-lo’
(that familiar upward inflection)
No one says ‘hello’ quite like you.
The nurse looking after you
was pregnant
and dressed in purple.
She did your obs,
and checked your groin –
neatly shaved and Betadined.
Then she sat you in the chair beside the bed.
‘You can get him dressed in fifteen minutes’.
I knelt before you and held your beautiful hands,
smiling – as I noticed
your dangly bits peeping
(like a pair of ripe plums)
beneath the gown.
‘For Chrissake. Give me my bloody underpants? ’
To be continued…
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