Where new writing finds its voice

For Ivy, wherever I may find her

Simon Munnery

Sitting in my wheelchair aching
Got my left side gone my mind mistaking
Sun shines through the window:
My son comes through the door

He sits down next to me
Looks around impatiently
A lull ensues:
The silence roars

It’s clear that he can’t take it
For he does his best to break it
Asking cheerily

How’s your day been?

And I look up


Through my dying eye

See my fellow passengers nearby

All wheelchair-bound, dribbling and plain potty

And with all the strength that I can muster

Through the half my mouth that works I mutter

Great thanks; I won the skipping race this morning.

For I know that the next room I’m in
Will be the one they nail me in
An end to pain an end to sin
No more morphine no more gin
But even as the darkness falls
I feel my spirit soar