This tiny poem seems to encapsulate the pathos of old age; a demonstration, if such were needed, that the particular can sometimes most effectively speak of the general. It comes from Chrys Salt’s pamphlet Old Times (Roncadora Press, Dumfries). Salt is a widely published poet and has also performed her work in France and the USA as well as the UK. Her awards include Arts Council and Scottish Arts Council grants and a writer’s residency at London University. – Lesley Duncan

FREDA

She sits on her suspicion

like a plumped cushion

scanning the nodding ancients –

(half live, half cat-nap)

with general accusation.

She shows me every time I come.

‘You can’t trust anyone in ’ere’

she says, ‘they’ve ’ad me pension.’

Her toothless handbag

yawns for my inspection

speaking of all things lost,

of all things taken.