care giving

Care Giving

 

some days I cannot remember
if I am myself, or the people I help
I place a soft curtain between us
so that I might be touchable
through fabric, but unconsumable,
my thoughts my own, uneaten,
unreachable in a thin veil
some days I cannot remember
if my words are my own
so many have shouted or cried
their versions, into my heart's home.
I check myself in the mirror
touch my eyes, nose, mouth,
in a quick study, a sharp review
behind me, through the veil,
the others stare too

Reviews

[Charles]

Kind of a 'you are what you eat' story. The cacophony that surrounds us sometimes seems to be overwhelming and seeps into our very souls. That 'soft curtain' or 'thin veil' are all we have left... which is good and bad. I say this only because when I pick up my grandson (grandchild #6) I feel as though everything, all the barriers, have melted away between us, and we merge. Good writing!

[Ed Hart]

Pat is a hospice nurse; we know these moments, you with your magic turn into poetry