Visit with a Young Bachelor

I visit my son,
newly grown,
on his own,
I go, by invitation,
to his flat.
The boy-men
make me comfortable
in the guest room.

My bed a sleeping bag
on the walk-in closet’s floor,
by my head six pairs
of gym shoes
smelling ripe.
My feet stick out
in the hall.

The refrigerator’s contents
turn me green as
mould on bread,
cracks sprout algae
in the bathtub.
Wearing shoes, I bathe
in the sink.

Not one suggestion
crosses my lips.
They revere their
roommate’s mother.
I feel stars gather
in my crown and say,
Thanks, gentlemen, I’d like
to come again.

Patricia Wellingham-Jones, who lives in northern California, was Poet’s Corner’s first overseas contributor. She is a widely published retired registered nurse, former psychology researcher, writer, editor and publisher. She has had special interests in healing writing, with two of her poetry collections being Don’t Turn Away: Poems About Breast Cancer and End-Cycle: Poems About Caregiving. Patricia describes poetry and art as natural companions, and the latest about her and her poetry can be found here.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. A poetry book will be awarded to each contributor.