Maggie and Porter
Come meet two of my former patients;
A nursing home room they did share
Maggie was blind; Porter became her eyes
Finding, picking up, helping her
He was kind. Her mind had slipped - or had it?
"Porter, I lost my comb," said to mate
Frail as he was, under the bed he went
Crawling for Maggie - deliberate
Day in and day out he would meet her needs;
She contrived to keep him near her hand,
Porter this and Porter that - it did seem
Though they each understood the commands
The nurses would come to help as needed.
Then, on that moring when a stillness
Penetrated the room reverently
Quietly sitting slumped by her bed
No answer; no movement; just sitting there;
Porter dressed for his daily tasks,
He had fallen asleep when breathing ceased
He had given all that was asked
"Porter, Porter, help me," was softly heard
"Porter, Porter, please answer me,
Porter, Porter, where are you?" asked again.
"Porter's gone. He loved you, Maggie."
Copyright © E. Pearl Anderson | Year Posted 2012
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