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