You’re not used to this: warmth on a dial,
double glazing, this airless locked-in
sucked-in almost-silence punctuated
by the hum and tick and bleep
of monitors, machinery
and the sticky hush and kiss
of the nurses shoes in the corridor
outside your tepid room.
In here nothing flutters.
Your unread papers sleep
still and deep whilst December
mimes a storm outside your window
and I want to bring the weather in.
I want to let the wind run around you
like a rabid dog.
I want the wild rain to lash
your thin fevered limbs
and shock you into living.
About the Author: Gaia Holmes is a free-lance writer and creative writing tutor who has worked with schools, universities, libraries and other community groups throughout the Yorkshire region. She runs ‘Igniting The Spark’, a weekly writing workshop at Dean Clough, Halifax. She has had two full length poetry collections published by Comma Press: Dr James Graham’s Celestial Bed (2006) and Lifting The Piano With One Hand (2013).She is currently working on her third collection which will, amongst other things, deal with gaps, sink holes, and broad beans. Some of her poems can be found: https://gaiaholmes.wordpress.com/hope/