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Annette Ohare Poem
• Prayer Sustains
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She sits in a straight-back chair, unmoving,
Slumped slightly to the left.
They have seated her with others
All sitting in a straight line in the rec room,
Attending a Trivia Q and A session.
But she is alone.
She is alone, trapped
Within herself.
I have come to visit my friend.
More than sixty years ago
We reveled in our youth,
Agile, able, preparing to meet the world,
Mastering the skills we would need
For our futures.
Bright, quick to laugh,
She learned with ease
And confronted the world
With confidence.
Teacher, wife, mother,
Cherished daughter with proud Gaelic roots,
Devoted sister. even in the middle
She shone.
Fluent in her second tongue,
The mellifluous French words sounded, once,
Like flowing harp music, gentle on her tongue,
Blending in grace, soft and sweet.
Irony, it is.
Her once passionate words
Now barely escape her quivering lips,
Muted sounds unable to convey her meaning
Even to the careful listener.
The relentless disease, still progressing.
Has abandoned her to the margins.
Trapped inside an impaired body.
My friend is withering,
Yet her prayer rises like incense.
Copyright © Annette Ohare | Year Posted 2020
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