Fifteen hundred piece
jigsaw (in memory of Ivan Cocker)
A jigsaw put away, uncompleted,
A small bare table, a
missing wheel chair,
A flat screen TV, old
people seated;
I asked and they told me
why you weren’t there.
I went to your room, and
I stood outside;
Saw an “Oxygen” sign on
the closed door;
The last time I came, it
was open wide,
And we talked about the
Second World War,
Then I said I’d help
complete the jigsaw
Of New York’s skyline,
and we both agreed;
Whilst it was a
challenge, almost a chore;
The last piece would be
rewarding indeed.
Now the rooms vacant, I’m
missing your face,
And Welshwood Manor feels
less of a place.
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