a long time ago, shortly after i became a rehab nurse, i walked into a room at 5:30 in the morning and found a worker trying to haul a patient out of bed. the old lady clearly did not want to get up, she was shaking her head no, and actively resisting. the worker said "she must be confused", and this is the poem that ultimately resulted.

The Speaking Look

She's not confused
I said she just can't
Speak.
Her hand flew up
Like a startled bird, to
light upon my own. My eyes were met
and held
for a long beat, long enough for hers to
telegraph their message ,
And i heard
Thank you
Just as clear as if
She'd said it.