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Never Gone
by Paulette Weaver
copyright 01-12-2002


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
At evening I fix her bed in the rumples
of old age. Her hands, skin thin
from time grasp mine in the
dark.

Her eyes beg closing, from nowhere
breath she whispers 'mama' and
I become my mother's
mother.



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Comments on this Article/Poem:
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01-20-2002 Farrah Tate    

In so few words you've expressed such a sad but common story. I'll never forget the sights and sounds of the psychiatric ward at a war veterans family hospital that I was on placement at briefly.
01-13-2002 Sharron Tyrrell    

How sad and lovely :)
01-12-2002 Laryalee Fraser    

Ah, this is a marvellous depiction, Paulette...
a touching look at a caregiver in action.
~ Lary ~
01-12-2002 Maralee Gerke    

I have been at this place myself. It is a strange and sad thing that we do become our parents advocates and care givers. This is a great poem.,
Visitor Reads: 297
Total Reads: 334
Comments: 4

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