I wrote this poem a few years ago now, when my nan went to hospital with hypoglycaemia (low blood sugar).
I’d love to hear what you think in the comments!
Your face was red,
like I’m used to.
Your skin was ice, even with three blankets
and the scarf I bought you
I watched you lie there;
You said you were fine.
I saw your eyes.
No one came whilst we waited.
Relatives that only see you if
there’s something in it for
‘It’s probably your diabetes,’
the doctors say, but
they’re not sure:
It could’ve been a heart attack.
You’re home by the next evening,
Wrapped up in your yellow slanket,
The Chase on, cuppa in hand.
The dog won’t leave you alone.
Don’t forget to leave your thoughts in the comments below!
You can also check out more of my poetry and writings across the site 🙂
This poem was originally shared on The Writer’s Cookbook, but I’ve moved it across to separate my writing advice from my creative work.