The Unprofessionals
When the worst thing happens,
That uproots the future,
That you must live for every hour of your future,
They come,
Unorganised, inarticulate, unprofessional;
They come sheepishly, sit with you, holding hands,
From tea to tea, from Anadin to Valium,
Sleeping on put-you-ups, answering the phone,
Coming in shifts, spontaneously,
Talking sometimes,
About wallflowers, and fishing, and why
Dealing with Kleenex and kettles,
Doing the washing up and the shopping,
Like civilians in a shelter, under bombardment,
Holding hands and sitting it out
Through the immortality of all the seconds,
Until the blunting of time,
U A Fanthorpe (1995) Safe as houses.
Calstock: Peterloo Poets
I had to share it. It seemed such an amazing description of people creating “Wellth”.
This post was first published on Wellthcare.
