Witness To

I am witness to much here: Whispered truths, Careful coughs, Slow deliberate steps, Relatives learning to walk slower And young ones prematurely bald. Twenty-four months on, This ward, This 'school of schools', Continues to wake and shake me From slumber and indifference; You cannot be indifferent here, Unknowing or uncaring. You simply cannot, Nor would you want to be. Every week different, Every week unique, Ordinary and extraordinary - Both at the same time. Relatives in uncomfortable chairs, Trying to be comfortable. It never works. And across from me, One of those prematurely bald ones, All of twenty-seven. They bring me near to tears every time. But to and from every direction, That word again - Kindness - The chief import and export, And no tariffs.