ONE AND ONE

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ONE AND ONE

She had forgotten how to count.
‘One and one,’ I said.
Fast answer.
‘Seventeen.’
‘Not quite.’ A long frowning silence.
‘Let’s try again.’ I said.

She was in a room of her own
Down a long brown corridor.
And she hated it.
Couldn’t remember how she’d got there
But the silence, the empty spaces, the bare walls,
With no-one to talk to or smile at,
And no-one to talk to her or smile back,
Just piled sadness on sadness.

Then, her eyes clearing,
‘Thirty-nine,’ she cried.
Until reading my face, slowly went on,
‘That’s probably wrong.’

‘If only George was here,’ she fretted.
‘He’d soon put things right.’
But my Dad was long gone,
His warmth and kindness
Lying under a marble headstone
And a bunch of daffodils.
IN LOVING MEMORY
Tick-tocking above his good name.

‘One and one. Seventeen,’ she tried again.

I was tempted to let that go.
After all, seventeen wasn’t that far from one.
When suddenly, surprising us both,
‘Two!’ she rapped out. ‘One and one make two.’
And the long sun slid across the wall,
Her eyes closed. Tired now,
Half asleep, she whispered, ‘Do you remember
The Kingfisher swooping over green water?’

© GWEN GRANT

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10 thoughts on “ONE AND ONE”

  2. Thanks, Sharon. Glad you liked it. It took ages to write because of memories.
    Hope all is well with you and that the weather is as nice as it has become up here.
    Gwen.

  3. Hi Gwen! I have to admit of all your lovely poems One and One is my immediate favourite!! So unique!

    Yes, the weather is a lot nicer, although we are expecting some rain. It’s been so dry here.

    Hope all is well with you.

    Thanks Gwen

    😊 💐

  7. I’m sure I had another piece from you, Sharon, but now I can’t find it. I think it was a Review. I
    very much want to read it so please could you send it again if that was the case. Glad you liked the poem so much.
    Gwen.

  10. Sorry, Sharon. I seem to have got a bit mixed up. It was a piece of your writing that I thought I’d lost.
    Hope you’re well.
    Gwen.

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