A Poem by David Lightfoot

Two Down

2. Liz hears me, disturbed
by this condition (10)

We'd have it done,
I used to boast,
and found it fun
before the toast

had cooled much. I
did clues across
while she would try
the downs. We'd toss

a coin to name
which half was whose
in this shared game
neither could lose.

I used black ink
and she chose blue:
bruised interlink
between us two.

But now it's not
the same: she sits;
I do the lot.
Without her wits

it takes me hours
but I don't mind -
with all these flowers
and Nurse so kind.


David Lightfoot is a retired Deputy Head and a former founder/editor of Seam magazine. His most recent collection of poems is Wounds Heal (Rockingham).