Small Kindnesses
The room is grey. There is no
Day or night. Time just passes
With no beginning or end.
His eyes peer out from behind
Folds of skin, worn and wrinkled,
Waiting for someone to care.
A cold metal tray holds mashed
Unrecognizable food.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, doesn't
Matter which; it's all the same.All freedoms and joy are gone,
Except for small kindnesses.
For a while, every Wednesday
She came, a girl dressed in white.
Her gentle voice calmed him some;
Her patience and compassion,
And especially her smile.
Kindnesses... from an angel.
photo http://www.ncadvocates.com/pa-nursing.htm
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