Blackened night brings her hands
Reaching out, across the smoothened comforter,
Clutching, grasping, no words, just her hands
And I take her frail hand in mine
Take her heart and hold it, praying the flutter will not stop
Not today, that today brings dinner in the dining hall
And 3 cans of Boost, Liliana and the 5’0 clock news
One pill, two pill, and here one more,
She looks at me, empty eyes and I stare back,
Praying, holding out hope there will be someone staring back
No one, no one to talk to you about children or grandchildren,
No one to sip coffee and muddle over the news,
No one to care if I am here or not, 58 years gone, never existed
Just those goddamn hands…
And the flutter of her heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment