she was losing her marbles
and knew it
and even found aspects of it
amusing to herself;
stuck in reverse, heading back
at the speed of light
a mouse under the table ! motionless,
& flattened with the coal shovel
was in fact
a mislaid spoonful of marmalade –
dressed in a fortnight’s worth of fluff
& miraculously overlooked
by the attentions of the antique Hoover.
The butcher on the phone
that the reason the lamb cutlets had not
yet been delivered was because it’s
4am & not the afternoon as she thought.
The lovely lady who made boiled sweets
and cakes and biscuits & “real” coffee
in bone china for eleven year-olds
knew that this was
the beginning of the end,
but laughed about it anyway,
and never told us to be careful with the cups.