he kept her like a secret

He kept her like a secret
And like a secret he didn't talk about her
If asked, she was well
But she was never particularly well
And like every living dying thing she got worse
As time went on
Time had taken her eyes already
Leaving her shut in
Though she left the TV on all day
And sometimes changed the channels
Mostly she sat still, except the hand
That drew her cigarette to her lips
And always ashed too late on the tray.
He kept her like a secret
Like a secret both dear and despised
And when asked, she was well
Except when age and accident made her worse
Threw her off her balance and
Hilariously and tragically
Into the recycling bin by the kitchen where
She groaned with broken hip until
He came home that night and found her
Weakened by age himself though not
Yet wholly diminished
He embraced her and pulled her out,
Carried her to her sofa and
Summoned the ambulance.
When she returned home, finally,
Sound of mind but not of body
Since healing is elusive with age
Rooted more firmly in her sofa than before
And more dependent still on her husband
Who kept her like a secret
Than when she only needed him to read for her
Aloud, she dropped more ash around her
And less often changed the TV channel.