And on the first morning,
as I help her with her breakfast,
I wonder if she recognises me –
she gives me a strange look.
On the second morning,
while I sort through her laundry,
she says: are you the guy
who used to be on the television?
On the third morning,
she is sleeping soundly.
She looks so peaceful,
I almost envy her.
On the fourth morning,
When I wheel her out into the garden.
She asks me: how come you never
invited me to any of your parties?
On the fifth morning,
I read her the newspaper:
I’m in it, of course, (a bad photo) -
she gives me that look again.
On the sixth morning,
her teenage granddaughter comes to visit.
I ask her later what age the girl is:
she says she can’t remember.
On the seventh morning,
she smiles and says hello, handsome.
At least they can now say
I did the community some service.
Dubliner Maeve O’Sullivan’s work has been widely published and anthologised for twenty years. Her collections of haiku (Initial Response, 2011) and poetry (Vocal Chords, 2014), are from Alba Publishing. www.twitter.com/maeveos