Kimee's Things

Kimee's Things

Our visits to Kimee, keep us connected,
Holding and talking, with hopes projected.
It’s simple things, that draw us together,
Homework, clothes, and hats for the weather.

A little girl’s trousseau, pieces accrete,
From a friend, a nurse, though never complete.
Her things in the wash, may not be much,
But they’re her things, she knows by touch.

And touch is by far, most important to be,
Against her soft skin, for she cannot see.
Her world is tactile, the most intimate sense,
Of strong, soft and tight, the fabric is intense.

Doing her wash, is a delightful chore,
Expunging drool and spittle, help keep the score.
Of good days, bad days, where she may be weary,
When measures and charts, don't tell the story.

Folding her clothes, right out of the drier,
Warm and soft, tis more than attire.
Things for an Angel, of another generation,
Not of a patient, but my daughter’s creation.

Every dress, undershirt, and orphan sock,
Rings the bell, of recall that she is not,
A disabled burden.  But makes our life bright,
Who is a person, a child, with a life-right.