A Priestly Presence

After a long hiatus, I'm jumping back into things.  Aiming at keeping this up this time.  :)

Here's a poem I jotted down today after visiting a couple elderly women in a nursing home.  I've noticed that a priestly presence -- just being a presence in someone's life on behalf of Christ -- can speak more to a person, especially those that are shut-in and forgotten, than any words can say.

Forgotten
The sun casts a shadow of people long
forgotten on the bare
cement floor of my bedroom,
my only only room.
These walls hold me captive, but I've done
nothing to them,
I breathe just fine.  Yep, I breathe just fine,
yet I am bridled by the oxygen tank I am now
forced to hoist on my back.
O Lord take me now.
The people who keep me here pinch and pry
pushing chemicals into me --
I do not want,
and the only things I sell
are memories.