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Through the night shift

and into morning

Perram House creaks and groans.

It doesn’t care who you are or where you came from.

Blue. Yellow. Pale purple. 

Each room is different.

An all-male choir sings Leonard Cohen’s

Hallelujah in the Living Room.

A resident reads on the back deck.

Nurses, support workers, volunteers learn

the art of working slow enough and quick enough.

Making pancakes. Treating pain.

Up and down the Scarlett O’Hara stair case

and through bevelled glass doors they

Turn. Bathe. Brush hair. Ease.

More ice.

Lipstick.

Someone wants to go out for a smoke.

Three days.  A month.  A week.

We all knew how rare this was.

Learn More About Perram House   Memory Archive