The patients with brain injuries
Sit in the common space
At the end of the hall
Where they have been placed.
Even the woman who always
Slides off her chair on purpose
Has been tied down and is docile.
The staff is on a break.
The ward is silent.

Suddenly the almost-blind man,
The one whose head always seems
Too heavy for his neck,
Raises his chin and begins to sing.
'I'll be down to get you in a taxi, honey.'
From the other side of the circle
A reedy voice responds
'Better be ready by half past eight.'
And then two others in unison,
'Hey, baby don't be late.
'I want to be there when the band starts playing.'

By now almost everyone is singing
Except my father
Who sees all, hears all
knows all
But how
To make words.