I cut his food into tiny pieces.
Small enough to fit into his
Small and toothless mouth.
He smiles at me, with a look of
glum resignation. I know
he’s embarrassed by this
Common situation. All his friends
eat their meals in
Tiny bite sized chunks,
made small for them by
caring relatives and carers.
His shaky hand can’t quite control the fork.
He misses his mouth a little,
We ignore the gravy smear. He smiles
as a small defiant tear dribbles
down his cheek.
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