My precious son is very poor in health. Glanced at flooded dike, green woods small birds making noises in hedges.
Quietly l feel he is departing. Eyes cannot mask, lack of diet, slowness, thinning of face.
Seeping through bandages. Open wounds, Nurses cannot improve. Reserved presence. Desire not to be here.
Giving in, not wishing for spring, little if any interest.
My emotional being knows what internal kicking feels like. He is giving up. Many others already have.
Shops so full,crowds so angry,carparks busy. All drifts passed. Wandering along waste land where noise is adsent, but of course it's present.
Little matters when own blood is hurting.
It's Not just winter outside. It's absence he feels for Hope. I cannot shine a light.
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