The Elderly
We cradle them in our arms
as they cradled us, carry
them when their legs
no longer give them strength.
We feed them, their hands
returning to that delicate stage
where reaching does not mean
touch, where grasping
does not mean to hold,
where carrying
does not mean to clear a path
for footsteps.
1 comment:
Beautiful, makes me think of when my Mom was needing that care- thank you.
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