Age Gap

Perplexed mother told daughter
a younger man wanted to be
her special friend. She was
old fashioned in these matters.
What to do now ?

Father had long since passed
away. Daughter thought mother
should enjoy her later years
with a special friend.

For a woman of 98 in a
comfortable rest home a man
of 92 was a suitable friend a
six year gap was nothing now.

So mother graciously agreed to
be his special friend enjoyed
three years of happiness till her
peaceful passing at 101.

Her frail younger man at 95
grieved her passing deeply, was
moved to the hospital. wing.

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Age Gap

Taxis

Working for a living I
ferried myself as my own
taxi driver to work, home,
friends’ places, family,
evening meetings, outings.

On my pension I walk, bus
occasionally take a taxi.
I told a few taxi drivers
good routes to take to
reduce my fare. They
objected at length so now
I use the smaller taxi
company, tactfully encourage
praise those using economical
money saving routes.

Fortunately walking and bus
timetables usually suit my days.

Taxis

Buses

Many other passengers share
the poor woman’s personal
vehicle, the plus sized bus.
Travelling round the city
between long scheduled intervals
they share a chauffeur, fit
their outings and errands
around the council timetable,
walk to and from bus stops.

Yet passengers have no bills
for maintenance, tyres, no
need to negotiate traffic
lights and roundabouts or
struggle to park a car, pay
parking meters, warrants,
licences, registration.

Good compensation for
walking to bus stops.

Buses

In The Wind

Shifting shapes shades colours
flying flapping fluttering
flowing in the airy current
punctuated by random gusts
sharp breezes tugging at
corners of rectangular towels
anchored to the clothesline.
Brightly hued stripes patches
spots catching sunlight on
thick velvetty pile and
worn threadbare cloth alike.

A flowing abstract depiction
of colours caught by sunlight
on a brisk drying day.

In The Wind

Uproar

My head resonates with
glugging hissing crackling
slurping suction sounds
booming round the boundaries
inside my skull.

Tubes and wires sprout from
the little motor over my head.
One tube leads into a cone
in my ear which craves
immediate scratching
I focus resolutely on staying
still throughout the uproar.

My ear canals clear after
ten long minutes. I hear again.

Uproar

Doctors

On regular doctor visits for
later years medical conditions
I ask if various medical factors
affect my conditions, ask how
I can mitigate their effects.
Already in his fifties the doctor
is patient, polite, tolerant of my
questions but no discussions
further develop. In a sole doctor
practice I can ask no further.

As one condition evolves into
a serious phase I embark on
the process of changing
doctors in today’s world.
I fill in enrolment pages
state official numbers
consent to patient records
transfer. The previous doctor’s
administrator rings, lambasts
me for moving on. With relief
I complete my patient entry
interview with a senior nurse.

Now I see a doctor who talks
to me as human being.

Doctors