Words That Burn

Sick Boy, by Anne Ridler (1912-2001)

Illness falls like a cloud upon
My little frisking son:
He lies like a plant under a blight
Dulling the bright leaf-skin.
Our culture falls away, the play
That apes, and grows, a man,
Falters, and like the wounded or
Sick animal, his kin,
He curls to shelter the flame of life
And lies close in his den.

Children in patient suffering
Are sadder to see than men
Because more humble and more bewildered:
What words can there explain
Why all pleasures have lost their savour,
Or promise health again?
Kindness speaks from a far mountain —
Cannot touch their pain.