Of Monastries, Moths, and Monoliths
Unwillingly admitted to the NHS Bombyx Service Home and Hospice Trust
Unable to afford homestay costs. Pic.: no ©
Like two grey silkworms,
frail and old,
wriggling on
through foggy webs,
with dreams spun
from paper to gold,
spinning yarns
with tattered threads,
safe in looms, close
entombed, hoping thoughts
would never be said.
Now forcibly placed
in strange cocoons,
gowned and capped
in separate rooms,
tightly wrapped
in cold starched beds,
denied their mothhood,
their pupa-hood,
their mulberry eggs;
masked staff fed
with tales of dread,
a lonely doom
placed in gloom,
as if to each other,
they’d suddenly died,
hospitalised,
inexplicably dead!
The Bombyx is the common silkworm moth
Goth:2017
This absolutely tears at the heart. Beautifully written. It’s a pity we can’t nominate anymore because I would put this forward right now.
sue.
It is a sensitive subject, Sue, with many of the post-war baby boom facing this difficult choice now, or it’s looming up. When I first posted this in 2017 (changed year now), David (Bozz) said this sadly was something they would soon be facing, and Daffni too, was upset by the lack of government planning at that time (even if this poem is fictional). Thanks for your comment, much appreciated. Trevor x