The first enters wearing the neon
Of virtue.
Ceaselessly firing all-purpose
At everyone
She destroys
In the breasts of the sick,
Who realize
That they are incapable of
Her ferocious goodwill.
Such courage she
In the face of human disaster!
Fortunately, she does not stay long.
After a speedy trip round the
In the manner of a nineteen-thirties
Showing the flag in the Mediterranean,
She returns home for a week- With luck, longer -Scorched by the heat of her own
The second appears, a melancholy
Of theological colours;
Taps heavily about like a healthy
Distributing deep-frozen hope.
The patients gaze at him cautiously.
Most of them, as yet uncertain of the
Of heaven, hell-fire, or eternal emptiness,
Play for
By accepting his
With just-concealed apathy,
Except one old man, who
With newly sharpened hatred,`Shove off!
Shove off!`Shove… shove… shove…
Off!
Just
The third skilfully deflates his weakly smiling
By telling
How the lobelias are doing,
How many kittens the cat had,
How the slate came off the scullery roof,
And how no one has visited the patient for a
Because
Had colds and feared to bring the jumpy
Into hospital.
The patient's
Ice over.
He is
In lobelias, the cat, the slate, the germ.
Flat on his back, drip-fed, his
The shade of a newly dug-up Pharaoh,
Wearing his skeleton outside his skin,
Yet his wits as bright as a lighted candle,
He is concerned only with the here, the now,
And requires to
Of nothing but his present predicament.
It is not
The fourth attempts to
His aged mother with light
Menacing as shell-splinters.`They'll soon have you jumping
Like a gazelle,' he says.`Playing in the football team.'Quite undeterred by the sight of
Of plaster, chains, lifting-gear,
A pair of lethally designed crutches,`You'll be leap-frogging soon,' he says.`Swimming ten lengths of the baths.'At these unlikely
The old lady stares
At her sick, sick
Thinking he has lost his reason -Which, alas, seems to be the
The fifth, a giant from the
With suit smelling of milk and hay,
Shifts uneasily from one bullock
To the other, as though to
Settling permanently in the antiseptic landscape.
Occasionally he looses a scared
Sideways, as though fearful of what
He may blunder on, or that the
Might suddenly close in on him.
He carries flowers, held lightly in
The size and shape of plantains,
Tenderly kisses his wife's cheek- The brush of a child's lips -Then balances, motionless, for thirty
On the thin chair.
At the end of visiting
He emerges breathless,
Blinking with relief, into the safe light.
He does not appear to
The
The sixth visitor says little,
Breathes reassurance,
Smiles securely.
Carries no black passport of
And visa of chocolate.
Has a
Of clean washing.
Unobtrusively stows
In the locker; searches out more.
Talks quietly to the
Out of sight, out of earshot, of the patient.
Arrives punctually as a tide.
Does not stay the whole hour.
Even when she has
The patient seems to sense her there:
An
The seventh
Smells of bar-room after-shave.
Often finds his
Sound asleep: whether real or
Is never determined.
He does not mind; prowls the
In search of second-class, lost-face
With no
And who are pretending to
Or read paperbacks.
He probes relentlessly the
Of each complaint, and is swift with
Dilutions of confidence as,`Ah!
You'll be
Before you're better.'Five minutes before the bell
Visiting time, his friend opens an alarm-clock eye.
The visitor checks his watch.
Market day.
The Duck and Pheasant will be still open.
Courage must be
The eight visitor looks
More decayed, ill and infirm than any patient.
His face is an expensive grey.
He peers about with antediluvian
As though from the other
Of time.
He appears to have risen from the
To make this appearance.
There is a whiff of white flowers about him;
The crumpled look of a slightly used shroud.
Slowly he passes the patientA bag of
Home-made biscuits,
A strong, death-dealing cake -`To have with your tea,'Or a bowl of fruit so
It threatens to
His glass fingers.
The patient, encouraged beyond measure,
Thanks him with enthusiasm, not
The oranges, the biscuits, the cake,
But for the healing
Of someone patently
Than himself.
He rounds the crisis-corner;
Begins a
The ninth visitor is
The tenth
Is not usually named.
