GladToCare Awareness Week poetry challenge 6th-12th July. Join Eileen Carney Hulme, sonja benskin mesher, and myself. Let’s celebrate, notice the often unappreciated work of carers, both at home and in carehomes. Please email your poems to me. Monday: Home Carers, Tuesday: Care Homes Wednesday: How Do I Want To Be Cared For, Or Not Thursday: How I Care? Friday: Saturday: ‘A day in the life of a loved one in a care home’ Sunday: Why Do We Care? Here are today’s: Sunday: “Why Do We Care?”

Care Home

I want to scoop you
from the bed
your scent will leave
no impression here
and carry you back
more than two years
less than one mile
to your ground floor flat
your paintings
the garden
your cat
your summer
birthday bash
gathering of friends
food and wine
sun lettering the grass
with poetry and song
your purple-tipped hair
storming the lessening of days.

i.m. of Jean Millar Lawson 1929-2011

-Eileen Carney Hulme

The Carer 

He considers trains
the light and dark of journeying
the elements earth fire water air

he needs to oil the wheels
his shoulders ache
stooping pushing lifting

springtime, everything coming alive
today they’ll go to the park
maybe he’ll remove her scarf, gloves

shake off the strains of winter
the pressure points
transform the signs of pain

and the wheels turn, let out
a squeak, softly he speaks ‘not far now’
and in the distance a train purrs.

-Eileen Carney Hulme

After The Bones

Yesterday
I thought you were
tired lost blind
to the light that fluttered
through cotton curtains
troubled by silent faces
passing in and out of
your landscape, a darkness
of rivers a burning of hearts

Today
I think you are
waiting beyond sea-lines
beyond wind-drifts, reaching
into the sky multiplying stars
meditating with the moon
nothing frantic about your words
they are low soft whispers
graceful as bird song, sacred at dawn.

Published in Soul Feathers
An anthology in aid of Macmillan Cancer Support

-Eileen Carney Hulme

Why Care?

To prove to myself I can.
I can take the weight,

make the hard choices,
arrange visits to three care homes,

bringtheir literature home
for you to read and say

You choose, Paul.
I choose the rooms that look out

on greenery. Once an old hall,
Old nunnery for my dad,

An old Victorian house
for my Nanna. I visit once

every two weeks for her,
My dad once a week.

Read the care reports for each building
Arrange estate agents for their old homes.

stress to you it is your decision not mine,
foryou to say we trust you, Paul.

i have a lump in my throat.
I make a list and tick it off one by one.

-Paul Brookes

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