Poems from Elle's perspective

My Chirpy, Chatty Invalid

Constant chatter,
like a radio left on talkback,
tuned out
to a constant white noise hum.

Nod and smile.

The pitch changes,
catching my attention.
I smile at the laughter in her eyes
and the grin on her face,
and she thinks I was listening.

Doctor's eyes glaze over
as the story tumbles out,
winding back on itself
like whipped cream
folded into a chocolate mousse.

Nothing wrong with her,
obviously.
No one thinks to look
beneath the surface.


Free verse. Written 4 February 2016.