Nursing Home Christmas

A quiet call from a dim room
Catches my ear
I call for nurse and go in
A frail arm waves to me
and takes my hand
Trembling like a wounded bird
I hold lightly, a grip of gossamer
Not wanting to crush
with my wheelchair grip
As I wait for the nurse
The breaths become shallower
Until they stop
The grip loosens
I feel a wisp brush my cheek
And I’m alone in the room
Until the nurse comes in
While christmas blinks in the window