National Poetry Month-Touch (Rondine)

Touch-what our skin craves and our soul desires.
When was the last time she had received it?
It had been 20 years since my dad passed,
Sure, there were hugs and kisses when greeting,
But the youngest grandchild was all grown up,
Leaving her lap barren for a decade,

I often rubbed her arms, massaged her legs,
Combed her hair into place or off her face,
But why didn't I climb into her bed,
Hold her in my arms like a precious child?
Touch-Did her skin crave it?  Did her soul desire it?

Picture:  Mountainside, NJ.  10.12.18 by LA

2 responses to “National Poetry Month-Touch (Rondine)”

  1. Oh, you’ve made me teary. This reminds me so much of how I cared for both my grandparents and my mother-in-law at the end of their lives. Yes, I wish I’d crawled in bed with them too.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Such a regret! My mom’s last weeks were so beautiful. I’m so grateful.

      Liked by 1 person

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