In my sick daughter’s room
the household animals gather.
Our black Tom poses lordly on
the sun-warmed windowsill.
A spaniel sleeps by her slippers,
keeping one weather eye open.
For once, they agree to differ:
nary a sound, or spit of bother.
Aloof and hieratic as guardians,
they seem wiser than this poor animal,
her father, tiptoeing in and out,
ferrying water-bottle, elixirs, fruit,
his unaccustomed stockinged stealth
tuned anxiously to a child’s breath.
Smashing the Piano (1999)