The Dementia Visit

He can’t talk with me because
word’s merge into mumble
Cannot understand me, see
his mind’s in a jumble

Sometimes, his eyes look daggers
then sad, angry no more
Trembling hands held outwards
slippered feet slide on floor

I want to help, reassure
there’s nothing I can say
When I chat all I get back
is “Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay?”

Please distractions, where are you?
I push through time slowing down
TV repeats and pet dog
alleviate my frown

Wife returns asks how it went
I smile and say “All good.”
Well she knows I’ll not complain
this part is understood

I admire her devotion
dedicated resolve
Death appeals to me greater
Than being him, when I’m old

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