Red brick on Commercial Road - <br />where mum did her training <br />some eighty years ago. <br />Where white veils sailed <br />across polished floors. <br />Where pennies were spun <br />on mitred sheets, <br />'5.30 nurse. 5.30 nurse.' <br />mum used to say. <br /> <br />Red brick on Commercial Road - <br />where they took dad <br />when he was picking at the sheets. <br />(they call it carpology) <br />‘It’s a bit impersonal’ <br />was his only complaint. <br />He was dead within the week. <br />‘Cancer is such rotten disease’ <br />said mum with dry eyes. <br /> <br />Red brick on Commercial Road - <br />where they are waiting for you, my love, <br />(with your blue pyjamas <br />and your brave belligerence) <br />to open your chest <br />and patch up your heart. <br />‘It’s the best bloody hospital in the state.’ <br />mum always said. <br /> <br />I do hope she's right?<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dear-old-alfred/
