Runcible Spoon

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Lost and Found

 

You got up by yourself this morning;

Put on your own knickers,

Said you fancied eggs and bacon.

 

You went outside, first time in two years,

To breathe the dawn air and

Survey the world since you left it.

 

In a few days, you remembered

Your name, the dog’s, who I was,

That the postman wasn’t your Dad.

 

You exchanged pleasantries

With the woman next door, no longer

Suspecting her of plotting your murder.

 

The hairdresser turned your flat feathers

To a helmet of curls, in the mirror

Igniting a glimmer of recognition.

 

We chucked the Tena Lady and Complan

Took the zimmer to the skip, turned

Your pill box into earring storage.

 

Weeks went by, you took the car out,

Joined the library, had a stab at calligraphy,

Tried your first chai latte.

 

Then on Sunday we came home and there

You were on hands and knees under the table,

Looking for something; you didn’t know what.