© Joe Canning 2016. All Rights Reserved.
“You are here again and I am glad to see you. Alas I cannot move.
I see your lips in motion and feel your loving hand touch mine.
I know who you are, but today, I cannot speak and it hurts;
It frustrates me to see you frustrated, hiding your pain.
Sometimes when you rise to take your leave, I stir.
I feel your sadness, I feel your hug but I cannot respond.
I wish to God I could tell you how I treasure that warmth;
that the window that shuts me from you would open wide.
I’m talking to you now but my conversation is mute.
You cannot hear me. I want to tell you that I love you;
that the story you are reading, I’ve heard it before.
I deplore this captive state, I can smell, I can see, I can hear.
Yesterday as you left I felt that I could just call out to you… scream.
Exasperated, I tried to, but nothing came, It was a hopeful moment.
Who are all these people sitting around? They look familiar.
Who is the young lady that feeds me with a spoon? She’s kind.
I had a visitor yesterday, I remember someone speaking to me.
Was it you? The face escapes me, they too, touched my hand as well.
Now you are leaving again, Christ!! I wish I could just blurt something out.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow my window will open”.
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