How lonely he must be.

       Anchored to me
               by bonds of love
               for the One
       Who created us;
               masterpieces
               in transitory ruin.

       Watching charges
               dulled
               with grime
               is a weary task;
       Uncompensated
               and solitary.

       Eighty-six thousand
               four hundred
               times a day --
       Do guardian angels
               feel the length
               of a second?

       How painful it must be
               To wait for a gaze
               of recognition
               from eyes unable to see.

       Thank you seems so paltry;
               Too cheap a recompense.
       Intercessory prayer
               is the best that I can offer;
               with my love,
               and hope
       That God will bless him.

       My loyal friend.