Love in a Time of Alzheimer’s
Every morning she is born again
the tree sparrows singing in the maples
the sun coming through the venetian blinds.
An awakening from a sleep so profound
that she is startled to find herself here.
What is this place? she wonders
as her heart rustles inside her like a paper rose
And why are my legs so weary?
What terrible hill was I climbing?
Everywhere the voice of the present is shouting her life
but without the anchors of past and future
it is the voice of smoke,
the rasp of a cancer patient waiting for the end.
Now he comes into the room, this stranger,
with the tentative smile of a suitor,
the knowing grin of a lover
the cynical snarl of a killer
Choose one! she thinks, but cannot
having no pattern to hold before her.
Please, please what do you want? she cries.
And the light crackles around the bed
as he bends down once again
to fold her gently in his arms.
– Michael Hogan
Thanks to Mike Hickey for sending this poem.
Happy Poetry Month,