Wind blows through the screen
as breakfast cools by her bed
I touch her shoulder
she's lifeless
Alone again you and I mother,
you must awake
so few summers left
Can you sit with me and we
will trace our moments
on yellowed paper
I clutch her wrist
she remains in dreams
eyes sealed weary with age
Awake mother
the racing in my heart
needs the ritual prayers of old
Shall we say a 'Hail Mary'
together
I lift her to sit
she gazes without smile
but obediently eats
eyes open weary with age
The wind blows
and I and memories
whisper our prayer alone
under white oleander skies
Marcia Schechinger
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/praying-under-white-oleander-skies/