Old lady in hospital
Her bones are cold
And tinder-thin.
Arteries and veins show through
Transparent skin.
As carers lift her,
Thin breasts swing,
Legs open showing
Her crinkled private skin.
Juices once flowed here
And she’d swell
Like a budding rose,
At the pull and thrust of passion.
Now there is no lust.
She’s disrobed,
Exposed,
By those, she’s forced to trust.
Copyright @ Frances Rowley Beaumont
Frances Beaumont
18/02/2022