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The Friday Poem on 04/03/22

We chose ‘Lost at the Western General’ by Kate Hendry partly because its subject matter resonates so powerfully with many women, and partly because the form and language of the poem reflects and carries the content so well. It’s written in tight couplets, appropriate for a couple under stress. The language is precise, the line endings — slightly abrupt — create a sense of disconnect. The overwhelming impression is one of control, of just being able to hold down rising panic, of just managing to deal with unpleasant memories. We think it’s a very accomplished, astute, and profoundly compassionate poem, and we’re very happy to have it.

Lost at the Western General

It only happened once, at night —
the ward we needed wasn’t listed 

on any signs and there was no one 
in the Covid-empty corridors to ask. 

Finally, I recognised the stairs 
I’d descended after surgery 

and so we found ourselves
by mistake, in ward six, 

where I’d had my mastectomy 
and I showed you the dayroom where

I’d waited, all morning, with ringing
phones and abandoned bags

of women taken before me, 
and the toilet where I took 

a pregnancy test — me, at 50?! —
and held my sweating breast 

for the last time, and the quiet room 
where I rang you afterwards. 

No one saw us or stopped us. 
I couldn’t remember 

which of the green double doors 
led to the theatre where the surgeon 

removed my breast but by then 
we were out the other side 

and you delivered me to the night nurse 
in the cancer assessment unit 

and she led me to a bed 
with my name already written 

above it and said she’d look after me 
and that you must go home.

Kate Hendry is a poet and teacher. Her work has been widely published in magazines such as The North, The Rialto, The Reader, Gutter and Poetry Scotland. Her first collection, The Lost Original, was published by HappenStance Press. Kate Hendry’s website is here.

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