This is What We Do is a care poem, a reflection on how people look after each other and a celebration of the fact that we can.
This Is What We Do – Care Poem
Your fingers are tugging the cobwebs from my eyelashes, one by one, you herd them like mules. This is the third time in a week you'll have to wash the glue off your fingertips. Once more, my hands are sleeping on your thighs to the sound of your mouth moving and your vocal cords cracking. This is what we do. Sometimes, your head hangs low, as if the earth's asking to bed your face afresh, but your jaw coggles until the smoke turns steam. I can stand up and square the window now, I can make out the treetops through the frosted pane. This is when you loop in to raise the heavy bottom sash. You fling your left leg and I sling my right leg over the sill. In winter, the legs dangling outside turn blue. In summer, the wind dries the leaves and reddens the skin. Inside, our feet meet the woollen rug and in the middle, a branch and twigs with finches and sparrows dropping by.
