Too Old To Live Alone

It was a usual day, but unaccustomed for her.

The pale morning-sunlight and her pallid face,

The slack winds and her flimsy feet bounded up, it was usual.

The bony hands clutched a cup of tea, some of it spilling down, down the shaky palm, it was usual.

The sun half-veiled, nature still asleep, she walked to his room, room of her son.

“Here’s your morning tea son!” , she said in a vague voice, it was usual.

Her deathly but contented eyes looked at him,

His eyes on his phone,he uttered,

“We'll go to the old age home and intromit you there, you are old, they’ll give you a better day-care!”

Tears rolled down her face and her lips murmured,

“I hope my grandchildren don’t do this to you.”

and turned her gaze to the floor, for the day was unusual for her.