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Poetry Library Southbank Centre - The Poetry Library housing the Arts Council Collection at Southbank Centre

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Edward Storey

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Visiting Hour

It was like a tower of Babel
but one where all those living there
spoke the same secret language -

Molly shouted to an empty chair
I-love-you-I-love-you-I-LOVE-YOU,
her long arms clutching at thin air,

while Mary chanted loud enough
to hear (though no one listened any more)
silly-bugger-silly-bugger-he's-not-there.

And on t.v. in Songs of Praise
the earnest congregation sang
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds

as Clive attacked the locked front door
with blasphemies, then cried
why won't YOU let me out of here?

So one more Sunday-visit passed
as residents played solitaire
with memories we could not share.

And you, my dear, who once knew
all the family, sat in a corridor
talking to shadows, with no idea

that I now held your hand, your face
so drawn and old you made me see
our mother staring at the kitchen fire.

But she was wise enough to know
each heart has its own boundaries
and would, as I do, weep for you.

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