Last Impressions

by Jane Hulme
Her hand, though swollen,
was precious to hold.
My heart was warm,
in spite of the cold
of her room.

I searched her eyes
for just a glimmer
of things gone by,
but not a shimmer
of her past.

Across the hall
the child was pleased
declaring to all
with perfect ease
he could count!

In stark contrast
Her lips would part
She spoke at last
words would start -
then nonsense.

I know it's been
but just a few years...
it was me who then
declared in her ears
"I can count!"

I now cling tightly
to her spoken words
not taking lightly
what I just heard,
"I love you".

Her mind, cluttered,
may not have known
to whom she uttered,
but she's often shown
she loves me.

Oh, might I declare
throughout my days
and be ever aware...
my life should say
I love you!