By: Miles Raphael
About The Poem
I wrote this poem early in the pandemic, struck by the incredible loss of life we witnessed especially within care homes. I wanted to write some sort of tribute to the elderly and vulnerable who have been lost to us whether through the pandemic, dementia, cancer or simply by being forgotten.
The cup is thirsty, last drop is done
It’s open mouth hangs as the residue stains the bottom
The night comes, down goes the sun
An empty vessel filled with sadness
Then rage that all is gone.
It’s all gone, lost in the fade
Of morning to evening and youth to old age
The sun comes down
The last drop is done
Mouth hangs open as the collapse of a mind
Rages and shouts.
There is residue at the bottom,
Despite its erstwhile dew
It glistens in the growing dark
Still somewhere there,
tomorrow morning we’ll find you.
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