They’re trained to do the work of love <br />dispassionately <br />as if they are the most loving friends <br />that you could ever have <br />and, miraculously, <br />there to help you in your hour – no, those vital minutes – <br />of your need (and ours) , with every skill <br />that human beings can devise <br />to save their fellows; <br />if they were angels, <br />could they do a better job? <br /> <br />and today, if we tried to thank them <br />on the phone – they’d have to call us back…perhaps… <br />that’s if we could ever get through – no, <br />sorry, we don’t know their names, that’s <br />why we’re phoning…yes, security, I understand… <br /> <br />or if we left a message, <br />picked up as they, weary, leave their shift <br />that’s been extended due to an emergency or three, <br />they may have difficulty in remembering <br />just which that case was, which they dealt with <br />as lovers even could not, <br />as angels; human beings as human as could be.. <br /> <br />or know how many wept, how many <br />held their breath, how many prayed; <br />how many wondered how to pray; <br />how many are more grateful <br />than they might ever put in words - <br /> <br />you nameless ones, <br />I hope that somewhere in your hearts <br />as you take a few hours’ sleep <br />before your next redemption of humanity <br />you may take whatever strength you may ever need <br />from <br />yours truly and sincerely, <br /> <br />Her Other Friends<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0040-for-tara-s-friends-named-and-unnamed/
