Their names are screwed tight
to the Resident's Directory
hanging visible by the door
opening one way ~ no escape.
He dresses up proper to read the news
one more time. Changing chairs makes
the old news new.
Elsie ran away to be a bride before
his father could interrupt love.
A work tent by the rail road's
newly laid track ~ her nuptial bed.
Jesus loves me is the only song
she remembers. She sings it heartfelt,
over and over, now that she isn't a child.
We come to see our mother who doesn't
know we came. When her limp hands wake
to clasp back tender, our smiles tremble.
Wedding bands worn thin
don't lie.
9 comments:
Oh Kathleen.
Hugs.
This is so raw and sad and beautiful somehow. :(
Very tender, very moving. Hugs.
all of the above ...
one of my sister's three jobs is in a nursing home. she works there from 6pm to 10 am. getting them ready for bed after supper, and then getting them ready for breakfast in the morning, as well as sleeping there incase she is needed in the night. i spent one night with her there as they had an empty room for a couple of days and a cot.
I get it now. Goodness, this is powerful. I especially like the images of the names screwed tight, the new chair that makes the old news new, and visiting the mother who doesn't know you came.
WOW!! Totally beautiful Kathleen!
ss
Just
L
O
V
E.
I love the story in the poem and the story in the photos, too.
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