you were one of those girls
who seemed old before their time:
you liked Jane Austen
and country walks with spaniels;
but your underwear -
black, lacy and bold,
drying on your radiator -
confounded this.
You stayed in an old convent
with rooms named after virtues:
you lived in Hope.
Twenty years later
it was MND
that took this from you
and you from me.
© Tim Scott
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