After The Op


I wake to the silence of home.
No beeps, no distant voices
in corridors, no professional footsteps.
Just the deep quiet of the countryside,
which unnerved me when we first moved
to the middle of nowhere, but now feels
centred and safe. The birds warming up
for dawn. Each note a bubble floating
into the light. A chord that chimes
with the promise of a beautiful August day,
and I realise I have slept a sleep
so deep and delicious,
so free from the whisper of pain,
that I am filled with a strange kind of song.
No tune, no words,
just grateful.


One thought on “After The Op

  1. Aoife – I’m a half-hearted tweeter so have only learned of your illness here just as it is hopefully ending. Good luck to you and thank you for this gently heartening bulletin.


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