UNCUT DIAMOND

by Teresita Perez

The nurse rolled the cart
of medicine down the hall.
All day she followed slowly,
said nothing at all.

Short, bent over, hair white,
over eighty, I bet.
Her tiny steps behind the nurse,
to my Mom's bed.

Her mind was feeble,
in the last phase of her life.
She straightened a cup,
then stared long into my eyes.

Uncut diamond, healthy spirit,
soul about to die.
Finally she said, "I love you,"
then she said, "Good-bye."

And she followed the nurse
slowly down the hall
next to the cart of medicine
saying nothing at all.


Copyright © 2000, 2020 to Teresita Perez