Here's a lovely poem for the caregivers among us, by Terri Kirby Erickson, who lives in North Carolina.
Draped in towels,
my grandmother sits in a hard-backed
chair, a white bowl
of soapy water on the floor.
She lifts her frail arm, then rests it,
gratefully, in her daughter's palm.
Gliding a wet
washcloth, my mother's hand
becomes a cloud, and every bruise, a rain-
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (http://www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It also is supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright 2011 by Erickson from her most recent book of poems, "In the Palms of Angels," Press 53, 2011. Poem reprinted by permission of Erickson and the publisher.