House Call | Bryn Fortey
“i have this deal of death about my hands”
(Ray Bremser, in the poem “Blood”)
I had another fall this week
only two paces from door to bed
but the sudden darkness
threw me off kilter and down I went
as with previous falls
I went down easily
and did no real damage
scraping some skin off a leg
but thankfully missing the bed post
my daughter and great-grandson
had to take an arm each
and haul me to my feet
Nathan had heard the bump
and come running
he’s like a mother hen with me
and I’m a fluffy little chick
in dire need of protection
it left me shaken and feeling woozy
for a day or two
which is par for the course
I feel quite vulnerable at such times
wondering if this might be when
old Doc Death might pack his bag
in readiness for a house call
the scrawny buzzard
hasn’t made it here yet though
