Bernadette’s lungs were hissing, <br />In between, she was wheezing, <br />During the best part of the night. <br />Francois saw her poor plight. <br /> <br />For a moment, he felt sorry, <br />But he had his own worry, <br />How to run the family? <br />Where to find the money? <br /> <br />The parish church bell, <br />Did its routine job well, <br />And gave its wake-up call <br />To the early risers all. <br /> <br />Mother Louise got up first, <br />And father Francois next. <br />She kindled the fire to get, <br />For the teapot, enough heat. <br /> <br />She was just thirty-five, <br />But was more like fifty-five, <br />So much worked up she was. <br />Poverty was its root cause. <br /> <br />O’er his drinking habit, <br />There was always a fight, <br />Between the two couple, <br />As she locked up the bottle <br /> <br />The night brandy he drank <br />Was still burning his stomach, <br />And he whispered to her <br />“I’m going out this hour.” <br /> <br />“Is it in the saw-mill? ” <br />She asked as usual. <br />“No, to the postmaster, ” <br />This was his answer. <br /> <br />She turned to his side <br />And cautiously said, <br />“Let us send Bernadette <br />Away from this spot.” <br /> <br />“Where to, ” he asked. <br />“To her aunt, ” she said, <br />“Bernarde will look after <br />And take care of her.” <br /> <br />“She’ll get proper food. <br />Her health too will be good, <br />In that healthy atmosphere <br />More than what she gets here.” <br /> <br />He felt a little bit hurt, <br />But he just kept quiet, <br />O’er his failures, he felt. <br />In search of a job, out he went. <br /> <br />Bernadette woke up to hear <br />Their talks close to her ear, <br />And their concern about her. <br />Her tears found no answer.<br /><br />Rajaram Ramachandran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a02-worry-about-bernadette/
