Bobbi walks quickly
along the corridors,
keeping to the edges.
One day she tells me,
whispering:
‘I hurt my hip. Now
I have to keep walking
or it seizes up.
I feel conspicuous
and embarrassed.’
She is slim
in her neat slacks
and cardigan,
sweet face framed
by a short pageboy.
Her eyes widen
a moment and I glimpse
fear, want to hug her
but will not intrude
on her frail dignity.
Submitted to Poetry Pantry #101 at Poets United.
Cross-posted to my verse portraits blog, Impressions You Left
Submitted to Poetry Pantry #101 at Poets United.
Cross-posted to my verse portraits blog, Impressions You Left
Oh this is so sweet, and you are so sensitive and respectful, Rosemary. There are a lot of stories in nursing homes. I've worked in them, so I know:)
ReplyDeleteI only glimpsed a few of them, so these are sketches rather than in-depth portraits, but I was intrigued enough to wish to attempt them — and there will be more.
DeleteRosemary,
ReplyDeleteThese portraits are stirring and thoughtful, respectful and evocative. Thank you for the dignity and grace you masterfully use to cast light on the subjects.
Thank you, Kim, for the kind comment.
Deletethis is so cool! i love that moment when a person, including someone you don't know, inspires you to write about them. what a lovely homage to these people, and the delicacy of this is just breathtaking. x
ReplyDeleteNice to 'meet' you, Dana. I'm glad you enjoyed.
DeleteLove this personal snapshot. You have painted her beautifully. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Rachel. She made quite an impression!
Delete