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On Mon, 11 Nov 1996 22:43:37 -0500 Marvin Giles <[log in to unmask]> writes: >I was sitting beside the entrance to a shop. >It was a warm sunny place I chose to stop. >My mind was busy with thoughts and plans. >My senses filled with sights, and the soft >flutter of waving fans. >Then a voice said that I must move. >I had no choice, it said with a shove. >The sun, replaced by bitter pain, the >knowlege of loss was back again. >The happy moment was lost to me, >and from that gloom I could not break free. >Till a friend came and saw the one >inside this thing called Parkinsons. > >So, before a chair with wheels you move, >take care. Be aware of the person sitting there. >For though the feelings don't always show >a careless push may cause tears to flow. > Your poem says a lot. My wife works as an aide for a rehab center. She saw the poem and asked me to print it out for her to take in to work. Jon Meyer 39/1 ([log in to unmask])