Ruth Schreiber – Two Poems

Brother                                                                                               

What, you travelled for an hour

and waited for another

just to see your brother?

We don’t know what it is

we don’t know why it came

but we’ll treat him

just the same

These marvellous drugs will serve as glue

electric shock is helpful too

we’ll return him as good as new

he’ll do, he’ll do

We’ll slot in the authority-

forget the cause and trial-

no need for any therapy,

it’s all down in his file

We’ll gather up the fragments of

his fractured personality

we’ll stick them back together

but please do face reality

True, his eyes are glazed

there’s a tick on his cheek

but he’s quite normal now,

just meek, just meek

There’s no need for talk-

yes, there’s weight in his walk-

no reading or writing or thinking

Pop two if you’re sinking.

Hot little butterfly

Hot little butterfly

I won’t let you slip through my fingers;

my grey-eyed miracle

I could not mourn again

I’ll nurse you through

the drips and shots,

pamper and protect you

till you’re big and strong and ready

and then

then,

then I’ll

I’ll

let

you go

Thank you                                                                                          

Thank you for the silence,

warm brown eyes

mopping up my tears,

refracting the shrapnel.

Dampen the echo

of our hollow cavern,

fill it, if you can,

like a magician

with something out of nothing.

My age has doubled overnight

from twenty-one to forty-five,

I was never twenty-one,

I was frozen;

a frightened frozen section

shrunken in the vaulted hollow;

you were my umbilical cord

and I thank you.