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Words flow, by my ear.
Not nice words,
none, which I wanted to hear.
Why are words hurtful,
when thrown by a tounge?
Words when used by
the old and the young.
No longer current
but still used
by quite a few.
When discovered,
it's nothing, just Adieu.

I awake,
words in
my head.
Write down
these words
before they
go away.
When they
are gone,
they're gone.
No matter
the need,
for they
will not
be there
for someone
to read.

Words pour out of this old head.
Many current, others from language dead.
Word flow is slow tonight.
Some days words appear rapidly.
I try to capture them, but hands
cramp when trying to write
in my notebook.
Words come without reason or
rhyme, which I prefer.
My mind is like a broken plow,
stuck in an old furrow, unable to
change direction. Inflexible?
or pre-occupied with other matters?
Who is to say? Writer's block?
Perhaps or just a mental staleness
that comes from existing in an
environment, not what I expected,
but which I chose to support my wife.

At dinner,
she sits across
from me.
I marvel at the
smoothness of her face.
All these years together
and I see her youthful
look. I know she has
aged, but so have I.
She is still the girl,
I married. She can no
longer care for herself
and resides in a Memory
Care Facility, since January 3rd,
of this year. I moved in to be
with her for support and
to provide closure on the
fear, she goes through every
day. If I am out of sight,
she will worry. She doesn't
need such issues as she
proceeds slowly toward,
full Alzheimer's.

Up in the morning,
long before Dawn.
Words forming rhymes
inside my head.
Prose to write, in
the book I keep,
lest I forget all
the words from my sleep.

A mess of two lives,
a diagnosis of one,
effects the other,
life is no longer fun.
The joy of the moment,
now gone away.
Will it return?
Who is to say?

Inane questions,
comments galore.
State your need clearly
or ask questions, no more,
for I choose not to answer,
the same question, again.

My mind is dull,
eyes are glazed,
as I contemplate,
the state of our life.
Drastically changed,
selling our homestead
and resigning to
a life of Senior Care,
in a Memory Care
facility for my wife,
as I attempt to exist
in this World of Sadness.

My beloved one, wants
to stay close to me
and every waking moment,
it's where she will be.
I'm now on a slow
ride of losing my sanity.

Long was the day,
short was the night.
To bed at 1 am,
awake at 2:30.
Dozed till 4:30.
Got up.
Why am I tired?

Strip off the sins
of our fathers.
Bare the naked Soul,
The babble of voices echos
in this large room.
Echos repeat the noise,
elevating to a rumble.
The day will pass slowly,
as we near the late
stages of this life.
Soon the breath is gone
as the Soul seeps,
from the Mortal being.
Life is no more.

I am in the bathroom, ready for a new
day. I hear a loud noise and then
a plea of "Please help me" startled me ,
I go to the door and
do not hear the plea.
I hurriedly dress and seek an attendent
to check on the neighbor. They find
her, call Medic One. She is taken to
the hospital, treated and returns, in a week.
She is 93 and appears in good form.

My life, these past few months
have been spent in a
Memory Care Facility.
I moved here, to support my wife
and to honor her request of my
being near her.
I am considered to be an Independent,
as I do not need any assistance or aid
from the staff.
This is a happy place. The support staff
are very caring, in spite of a few
residents who will verbally abuse them.
This has been a positive, learning experience
for me as I have been allowed to participate
and be a witness to the care provided to
those friends and family who are dealing
with Dementia and Alzheimer disease.