Patricia Deaton is a native of the foothills of North Carolina. Her poetry has been published in Your Daily Poem, Bay Leaves, and The Best of Poetry Hickory anthologies and she has won prizes for short fiction and poetry. From strong Irish ancestry (Killians and Carrigans), she is surrounded by song-writing and speech-writing siblings. Writing is the gratifying constant in her life, edged out only by the love for her daughters, grandchildren, and now, a precious great-granddaughter.
Every Day at the Facility
By Patricia Deaton
This daughter speaks to mother.
Childlike agreeing soothes complaints.
I know, I know, I know.
Hair brushed, blush and lipstick, hand-held
mirror’s tale. Eyes close, daughter nods
I know, I know, I know.
Kindergarten flash cards, numbers, words
this mother speaks, then daughter grins
I know, I know, I know.
Afternoon fresh air, four-leaf clover hunts
she rolls and points; this daughter bends.
I know, I know, I know.
Dinnertime sundowners wheel-chaired
mother half-smiles, daughter’s back.
I know, I know, I know.
Death-gripped bars on lowered bed.
I want to go home, this daughter says
I know.
This poignant poem touched me in many ways. I remember the day my mother entered the “facility” and the day she left. I have a hunch there are so many people who can relate to this poem…thanks to the poet for sharing.