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Follow MirrorTV. Subscribe to our Celebs newsletter Privacy notice Enter email Subscribe. Again, the camera moved in, filming her from behind as she sobbed: to what end? Similarly the camera lingered over an argument between Junior and Sonja, even after she asked them to stop filming. The subject matter of the programme was inevitably upsetting, but there was a lack of sensitivity that I found alarming.
Perhaps the set-up was flawed. In a group, some people will always make themselves heard, while others recede into the background.
But the film-makers have a duty to bring every story to light. This was the first of four parts. Hopefully the next episodes will do more justice to the dignified and thoughtful people appearing in them.
A MUM-of-four who appeared on harrowing documentary My Last Summer is still smashing the odds - five years after doctors predicted she. This was the question posed in My Last Summer (Channel 4), in which five terminally ill people were brought together at a country house to talk about their impending deaths. Jayne, 58, had breast cancer that had metastasised; her husband couldn’t cope with her diagnosis, and.
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Poetry Near You. Academy of American Poets. National Poetry Month.
American Poets Magazine. Poems Find and share the perfect poems. My Mother on an Evening in Late Summer. And my mother will stare into the starlanes, the endless tunnels of nothing, and as she gazes, under the hour's spell, she will think how we yield each night to the soundless storms of decay that tear at the folding flesh, and she will not know why she is here or what she is prisoner of if not the conditions of love that brought her to this.
Only the cricket will be up, repeating its one shrill note to the rotten boards of the porch, to the rusted screens, to the air, to the rimless dark, to the sea that keeps to itself.
Why should my mother awake? The earth is not yet a garden about to be turned. The stars are not yet bells that ring at night for the lost. It is much too late.
From the Long Sad Party Someone was saying something about shadows covering the field, about how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning and the morning goes. Someone was saying how the wind dies down but comes back, how shells are the coffins of wind but the weather continues.
It was a long night and someone said something about the moon shedding its white on the cold field, that there was nothing ahead but more of the same. Someone mentioned a city she had been in before the war, a room with two candles against a wall, someone dancing, someone watching. We began to believe the night would not end.