Sitting in your chair
in the nursing home,
you hold my hand,
but you barely respond.
You can't understand me;
I can't understand you.
Words have no meaning.
Neither do faces.
You've been on the way
here for a long time.
But did I speed it up?
In trying to care for you,
did I do more harm than good?
And then I gave up,
and now you just sit.
Mama, I'm so sorry.
Mama, I'm so afraid
that I did this to you.

--January 1996
Copyright © 1996-2024 Brenda S. Parris