Baggage

...A list poem?

Spare vests and pants of yesteryear

are now accompanied by fear -

for are the correct chargers there

(and that reminds, night malt required)

for laptop, puffs and scooter, phone?

Sufficient tablets for the stay,

each waking, morning, tea time, night,

back-up in case, for some delay,

(though kids, their tablets anyway),

and tonic, diet, to wash down,

plus stockings, cream, in place of socks

which do not pressure, give support?

Some silk-patched sheets to turn at night,

unwieldy under-mattress-frame

to block my falling out of bed,

though dawning, high jump skills required -

a scissor kick, believe it’s called -

to lift both legs above the steel,

negotiate, ground threatened slide.

Mobile, for one not moving round -

it’s used, alarmingly, pill-time -

at least no I-phone - just not me,

though vapes that seem to dull the aches

with refills, menthol nicotine.

The fish, well-fed, timed heat and light,

for neons flash, short power cut -

a week’s long time, aquaria -

like politics; priorities,

replanting weed and netting dead,

unless one first puts kettle on,

remembering the socket’s off.

Such baggage comes with this PD,

the stick, blue badge, and RADAR key -

you know, the loo, I mean to say -

that scooter, battery on charge -

at folks who saunter in the way.

I scribbled checklist, envelope -

can’t read my quiver writing, still

fruit, veg means I’ve mixed shopping list,

though marrow useful for the bones.

So frankly, half-term, dusted down,

I can recline, feet raised on high

with buttons, plugs for chair, TV,

such great relief, back home, to be.