The Aging Community

• Jemma Smith, Grade 3
• Poetry
• 2018

At the Iona Age Care
I can see
Wrinkly faces filling the seats, chatting to nearby friends
My great grandma reaching for the remote, the TV flickers on
The waiter holding dishes, serving them quickly
Dulcie saying "Thank you", then turning carefully to talk to me.
I can hear
False teeth rattling inside elderly weak mouths, a river of soft food
Footsteps in the distance, click clacking on the path
The tap turning on and off
New fruit being washed before getting smashed.
I can smell
Desserts and mash, flooding the room with all sorts of scents
Sauce stains from yesterday, still lingering
A slight whiff of fancy perfume, Oh what a delight
Remnants of fruit, sitting like couch potatoes in a delicate bowl.