I am washing dishes in the sink and the water bowl overflows
Staring at the pretty Winter scene
It’s been six years since she didn’t die
and many in between
Awkward feelings remain.
“Getting Better All The Time”
used to mean just that
When I was young I believed it.
“Help” was a song I hummed but never knew the words to
Now I cannot help myself, nor those around me.
She still exists but in a fragile shell.
Days are good,
When old interests are replayed.
is what it is.
There are two others just beginning their journey
Occasional help required,
Difficult and sometimes extreme in one case.
She remains in bed or settee and book-bound
What am I?
The time travellers husband?