A poem by Glenn Colquhoun, author of Playing God – poems about medicine
Old woman, don’t go, don’t
go outside into dark weather
Out into the night’s wet throat
There is cooking on your stove
Old woman, don’t go.
Don’t go old woman, don’t go
Down beneath that deep sea
Down onto its soft bed
There are still fish to be caught
Old woman, don’t go.
Don’t go old woman, don’t go
Bent into that slippery wind
Listening for its clean voice
There are songs still left to sing
Old woman, don’t go.
Don’t go old woman, don’t go
Walking beside that steep cliff
Watching where the sea flowers
There are daisies on your lawn
Old woman, don’t go.
Don’t go old woman, don’t go
Lifting in those strange arms
Caught against that dark chest
There are people left to hold
Don’t go, old woman, don’t go.
