AN ARM
I feel an arm, just laying bare.
No muscle, just loose skin and bone is there.
I sense the blood still flowing through
the prominent veins, all now so blue.
I think of her hair, so short and frazzled,
mocking the style which once shone and dazzled.
The nails cut short, no colour or shine . . .
This was once Mum’s arm –
but now it’s mine.
October 2023