when i arrived
sky was dove grey
as your face, cloud-pinched
by pain
i wash your hands
fragile as crepe paper
soothing gentle words
believing
i give you relief
but torment is intense
your nerves are fire
you say,
being old is not fun
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson. This is a 44 word post with the given word, PINCH. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.
