Gravy Slave
Gravy Slave
Her eyes now dim, lustre lost with worry and age.
What will today or tomorrow bring?
More assaults to this already tired and worn body.
She used to say, ‘Old age does not come alone.
No, it comes with disease rampaging through cells, taking with it function and purpose. In its place are left pain anguish and decay.
One hand holds on to the side of the gas cooker to steady herself as she stirs the gravy.
Years of her life lost to this task, melting away like the lumps in the gravy.
Copyright © Jane Ashfield | Year Posted 2022
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