John McCullagh

Is that what you are thinking, is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse, you’re not looking at me.

Ill tell you who I am as I sit here so still:

As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will,

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,

Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet:

A bride soon at twenty – my heart gives a leap,

Remembering the vows that I promised to keep:

At twenty-five now I have young of my own,

Who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last:

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my man is beside me to see I don’t mourn:

At fifty once more babies play round my knee,

Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,

I look at the future, I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing young of their own,

And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known

I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel

– ‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body it crumbles, grace and vigour depart,

There is now a stone where I once had a heart:

But inside this carcass a young girl still dwells,

And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,

And I’m loving and living life over again

I think of the years all too few – gone too fast,

And accept the stark fact that nothing can last

So open your eyes, nurse, open and see

Not a crabbit old woman,

Look closer

– See ME.