The Key

Room is quiet
Only a steady
Sound of air
Flowing from
A plastic tube
Occasional
Snore from Dad
Glass doors
Provide a window
To the hallway
Doctors walking past
Carts rolling by
With food, linens,
Cleaning supplies-
Right outside sits
The faithful one
Never far away
Caring for others
Keeping track of
Vital signs
Medication
Answering questions
Calming fears-
I know it is
A team effort
But I believe
Nurses hold the key

I wrote this poem while sitting with my Dad in ICU after his open-heart surgery. I was amazed by and thankful for the care he received, especially his nurses. ❤

2 thoughts on “The Key

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