© 2021 Barbara Grace Lake

I chose in care
A man experienced, serene
Brown eyes, black hair, a friendly smile
He welcomed me

Back then my hair was dark
Skin fair, but still unlined
I prayed he’d ease my current ills
And keep me well

Our visits few
Yet over time a nexus grew
Few doctor/patients know
That bond is ours

From knowledge into hope
No stronger bond of trust exists
To gentle hands I gave my life
He gave it back again

And over time
As always age will rob the young
Grey frames my facial lines,
His hair turned white

When did I get so old?
When did my doctor age?