This poem is inspired by a dream snippet that appeared before me on the morning of May 3, 2020. I dedicate this poem to all caregivers who do their duties with love and always go the extra mile:
Daughter could have slid momma’s feet into a bedroom slipper.
Instead she placed them lovingly into white patent leather flats and
tenderly slid the ankle straps into each golden buckle
to ensure they were not too tight around momma’s splotchy leg.
She could have forced a loose smock over the old woman’s
tiny frame.
Instead she picked out the prettiest lace dress
with tiny buttons in front, that squeezed unwillingly into loops.
Daughter tied the waist bow, which
added flair to the outfit’s style.
Earlier Momma had shown her smile was still beautiful as she bit into
a piece of lightly buttered wheat toast and enjoyed
the scrambled egg white and turkey bacon daughter
had so lovingly prepared for her.
Now they were off to the market to find the perfect
lavendar bath beads for momma’s evening ritual washing, that she
thoroughly enjoyed before daughter put her to bed, afterwich Momma would
fade off into dream land, snuggled in her favorite white, fabric-softened comforter.
