We were all a little Crazy

I came to stay when you were dying.
I bought new clothes for the occasion, pink jeans and a
matching blouse I never wore again.
The Macmillan Nurse said you chattered to her in the night
and admired her colour.
You never spoke to us and your eyes stayed closed, except for once when you gazed at me with the
sweetest smile.
I was alone with you when it happened, your eyes flew
open, then you were gone, fleeing from your years of pain.
I sat next day in a Liverpool square with my arms full of
flowers, feeling something wonderful had happened.
That week we were all a little crazy.

By Hazel Collinge