breathless beginnings

I guess I have arrived...in today's terms. I now have my own few square feet on that strange space called the Web. And what will I say? Will what I say make sense--to myself, to others, both known and unknown?

Perhaps a good way to begin is to talk about what's uppermost on my mind. Being a wordsmith who takes on different avatars--biomedical editor, teacher, writer of features and fiction, and of course, that something that is closest to my heart--poetry (I can see some of you cringe--"oh, no, not another of that sort!")--it seems particularly fitting to subject my readers to my most recent exploration of emotion in verse.

Caregiving for people of various ages is a challenge, and it's important to remember some basic human truths--which is what this expresses.

For my grandmother and yours…

In the half-light of
The naked light bulb
Shaded only by
The clouds in your eyes
And the tears in mine,
We float
Through times past and present
Wondering where our selves are lost
While we, trapped in these bodily prisons
Rue our physicality.

When you look at me,
Do you wonder
What I am thinking,
How I am feeling—
As I turn
Your tired and twisted body over
To give the skin on your back
Another lease of life?

Do you ask yourself
And, with those silent eyes, ask me—

“What do you see, as you hold my
Gnarled-wrinkled-spotted hand
In yours?
Can you feel the love
That cooked-washed-cleaned
For children, grandchildren
And sundry others?
Do you sense
The unyielding, unending patience
That tied us together, you and I and many more
Disparate, distracted,
So that they would be knit
Into a fabric of memory, caring
And commitment?
Or do you only feel fatigue,
A mind-numbing tedium,
And are you just waiting
For the inevitable release
Hoping, yet afraid to voice hope
That it will be sooner
Not later?”