Making rounds

I enter and you’re slumped forward, napping

The Golf Channel blaring

I press mute and you jostle

“It’s okay,” I state.

“Call my son, he wants to talk to you.”

 

The next room CNN is tuned into hearings

“He’s a racist, “ the daughter proclaims

“It’s not good” the milky-eyed lady replies

“Her pressures are bad,” the daughter states.

 

You are in the back room of large apartment

Fox News clicked off as I enter

Frank gets up, “It’s time for my walk.”

“Do you have your phone?” she calls

You’re happy to see me

“I have my list.”

 

You’re asleep on the couch.

It is difficult to rouse you

TCM’s on, a black and white movie

“Who’s that actress?” I ask

“I forget but she’s really good,” you say

 

European soccer on the big screen

She wanders around, wearing a coat and holding her purse

“She’s eating a lot, but doesn’t remember. She may have diabetes,” I state.

“Thanks for taking care of my mom.”

 

Now I’m in your room.

A game show is on but no one is watching

You fell and broke your hip

You wanted to go shopping.

Now in bed and your family is here

I turn off the TV

 

I submitted this to Unknown Writers contest–Denver Women’s Press Club -2017

I never studied poetry, but several years ago I was in a transition. I was working, but wandering. When I wandered I jotted down thoughts of what I saw on my journey. The critique of my poetry was information I didn’t know what to do with. I haven’t written my wandering thoughts since. But I still make rounds, seeing patients. Each person’s life is a snapshot, I was privileged to witness.

In this time of pandemic and the elderly at home, these moments still happen. But life is more precious and smaller now.

Take care of our elders. They are our history. Be kind. Don’t take them for granted. Love.