We found him twisted,

groaning, naked

on the bedroom floor.

All he said –

“Cold, cold, cold.”


Too heavy and stiff

for us to lift.

I curled round him

with blankets till

the ambulance came.


He hung on,

half in the world,

half not.  Then

the ultimate cold

set in.


I thought of Odin,

the Half-Blind,

how nine days he hung

on the World-Tree, and

I half understood.



© Sue Lansdell