THE INVISIBLES

Flying from infirm and disabled to confused or lonely, we are one-to-one carers, playing musical chairs with public transport. We wash, dress, lift and lay, casting capable webs with smiling ease. Our clients are soft rocks in quiet ponds. Calm rings around us, centres our mass. Soups in freezers and cakes in tins, we care for each other, passing the baton across airwaves, painting pictures of falls, broken bones, mini-strokes. I do have time to stand and stare, listen to tales of war and peace, nod and smile at repeats.