Snakes and ladders
is a game you can play
by yourselves if you
must stay in bed
with your right foot
resting on a pillow
inside a fruit box.
‘Try not to move it’,
says Dr Quinn,
and adds, ‘too much’.
I see the orange hairs
on his corduroy jacket
and its many pockets
like a hunting coat.
I picture him
stalking ravenous lions
across a hazy savanna
in his holiday,
while I stay immobile
for the rest of summer
longing for the seaside.
Once he drives me
to his Surgery
for a Blood Test.
Panic vanishes
as soon as I see
the marmalade cat
sprawled on his desk.
‘Up, Limpet’,
says Dr Quinn.
Limpet flicks
a snaky look at me
and sidewinds across
the table towards
his outstretched hands.
He gathers he up
and plants a kiss
between her ears,
she rubs his jaw.
Limpet has three legs
and one back paw
is a squishy shape.
In a second, Dr Quinn
moves to the top
of my Ladder of Virtue,
supplanting Jesus,
Albert Schweitzer and
Joyce Lancaster Brisley.
