Journal of Gerontological Nursing

Poetry 

The Hands of Stranger

J W Riggs

Abstract

When I'm 80 and almost blind

will past and present be hard

to define?

In that day and age will someone

care?

Brush my teeth, and wash my

Make sure my clothes aye clean

and dry.

Will someone be near if I

should cry?

When the spring showers

turn the trees green,

take me to the window,

so I can dream...

think about my poem and

my concern...

Some of us will grow old

with no where to turn

except to the hands of

Strangers....…

When I'm 80 and almost blind

will past and present be hard

to define?

In that day and age will someone

care?

Brush my teeth, and wash my

Make sure my clothes aye clean

and dry.

Will someone be near if I

should cry?

When the spring showers

turn the trees green,

take me to the window,

so I can dream...

think about my poem and

my concern...

Some of us will grow old

with no where to turn

except to the hands of

Strangers....

10.3928/0098-9134-19820701-14

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