Alzheimer’s

My wife and I have always been, for lack of a better word, loners. We have children, grandchildren, brothers and sisters that we dearly love. But we have always been nomads and spent our entire lives enjoying the company of each other. We are the best of friends. I wrote this poem quite awhile ago after watching a family member suffer from dementia. For my wife and I, our greatest fear would be to lose our memories of each other.

Alzheimer’s

Please old man you must let me be relieved

Let me go where I will not be abused

Old man you know it’s me they have deceived

My mind is silent waiting to be used

My memories, they are fading faster

It is my sadness that has been released

Old man you know that you are my master

Oh please…why won’t you let me find some peace?

So I will go to join their procession

But first there is someone that I must seek

She is standing, in love, right beside me

But our fingertips just don’t seem to meet

Her hair burns bright with the color of fire

She is standing in the night beside me

Is it my mottled mind, am I dreaming

Or is it that I just need to believe

Chemo Therapy

The endless waiting burns into his brain

Every tick of the clock drives him more insane

His life washes away with each wave of pain

His sorrow will not let him feel life again

His resolve is broke; nothing left to gain

Let death come he cried, no need to remain

Crochet

Red, orange, yellow, purple, blue and green;

The colors flow smoothly from her fingers

A rainbow of yarn like I’ve never seen

So absorbed in her I stop and linger

 

With every twist of her agile wrist

I watch intently as the afghan grows

Without looking, she creates every stitch

Then carefully crochets them into rows

 

The weight of it on her is comforting

Its warmth blocks out the chilly winter air

Still I can’t keep myself from wondering

Will it soon be too much for her to bear?

Each New Day I Wonder

Each New Day I Wonder

Will this be the last time?

Your warmth draws me awake and

My lips caress your beauty

Each New Day I Wonder

Will this be the last time?

My arms pull you to me as

I whisper I love you

Each New Day I Wonder

Will this be the last time?

That you will comfort me or

Ease my pain with your touch

Each New Day I Wonder

Will this be the last time?

That I will dream of you

A Morning in Carroll County

The valley lay in peaceful slumber under the comforting blanket of a warm night. The clear summer sky was filled with thousands of tiny flecks of light that danced against a deep blanket of black. As the eastern horizon brightened, beginning a slow transformation into dawn, those stars that had dominated the night with their brilliance, slowly faded… withdrawing back into the heavens. Surrendering themselves to the encroaching dawn.

So slight was the change that it came almost without notice. Looking at them there appeared to be no movement at all. But a simple glance away for just a few moments and you’d find that entire galaxies had dimmed or disappeared completely. As the darkness leached from the sky and morning began to shift; first black to gray…then pale blue…finally into cobalt as night yielded to the encroaching dawn.

Slowly the sun pulled itself over the wooded hilltops and splashed the sky with a dazzling array of color. It burned away the swirling fog that had crept up from the river and filled gullies, ditches, and hovered over ponds and fields. As the ghostly mist evaporated it exposed to the world those hidden places with forgotten names like Long Tater Hill, Low Gap, Bunch Hollow, Rabbit Island and Wakenda.

The coming dawn brought to life a sea of green that swirled and rolled in the soft morning breeze. The vast fields of corn, wheat, soybeans, and alfalfa stretched out from the banks of the Missouri River to touch the horizon. Each tiny drop of moisture that dangled from the tips of their leaves reflected the beauty of the sunrise.

Cows grazing in rich emerald pastures looked up with tender shoots of sweet clover dangling from their mouths. They felt the sun…it warmed their blood and sent small wisps of steam rising from their backs. The sun had witnessed this scene countless times before and did not linger to enjoy the serenity of the moment. It moved on uncaring. But for me the scene will remain frozen in my memory…I weep for all who have never known such joy.