Poems … Healthcare

Really!

Do you really think

that he doesn’t know the difference between making his bed and caring for his mother?

Do you really think

because he pays out of pocket or maybe not directly for his mother’s needs that his must be met too?

Do you really think

a load full of laundry with a single bra for his mother and everything else his makes it become her laundry?

Do you really think

that because there is glass everywhere it must be mistaken for healthcare to be made streak free by me?

Do you really think

that his mother must wander away because of dementia and I’m busy cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning

cleaning and she can’t find me and I don’t know where she went?

Do you really think

that I graduated from the wrong school, took the wrong exam, got the wrong license,

went on the wrong job search, applied for the wrong job,

went on the wrong interview, sent to the wrong place for the wrong job,

with the wrong mentality and kept the job.

Or did I simply lose my mind and forgot where I was, why I’m there,

who paid for school, and … what was I saying?

Do you really think that?

Elderly-Woman-and-Laundry

*

Happy to be Here

I combed her hair and placed her in the chair

Her disposition’s better out of bed

She starts the day just happy to be here

 

In spite of all the aches and pains to bear

And sometimes there is throbbing in her head

I combed her hair and placed her in the chair

 

Her husband died and left her in my care

For sixty years and two they had been wed

She starts her day just happy to be here

 

The changes in her life she’s not aware

And daily ask for her departed Fred

I combed her hair and placed her in the chair

 

To socialize I take her everywhere

There’s nothing more she’d rather do instead

She starts the day just happy to be here

 

Exuberance she shows for life is rare

She is content as long as she is fed

I combed her hair and placed her in the chair

She starts the day just happy to be here

Elderly-Woman

*

Dinner is Served!

I set the table with your dish

and placed the fish

upon the bed

of lettuce head.

It’s time for you to have your meal

before you feel

too weak to eat

or take a seat

with friends and family around.

They hear the sound

of plates unswerved.

Dinner is served!

Dinner-is-Served

Poems by ©Veron Lee Campbell

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