faces watching

As we sang, I could watch the faces watching us.
In their bathrobes, some in wheelchairs, most very old,
some watched intently, nodding to the familiar carols;
others, hardly aware of us, stared at children, invisible,
now replaced by familiar strangers who told the same story
fresh every day and showed pictures from the future.
Our music was a flight to the familiar; it raised them
from their chairs up to the recognizable—
and so we spoke their tongue, their joy.

Each time I sing in a nursing home for the elderly
and the chronically ill, I learn again that giving
is tricky: the faces are watching and so am I.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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