4 in the morning,

I wake at the duvets edge.

Out of bed, down the stairs –

Her words: ‘I feel ill, dear’

(And a knee at my back)

Push me to the kitchen – so tea I make.

10 past 4,

I go back upstairs, cup in hand –

She’s fallen asleep already.

My words: ‘Your tea, dear’

(Fail to get any response)

I go back to bed – half past 4: ‘where’s my tea?’