Altzheimers:Thief of Light

Altzhiemers: Thief of Light My good old friend is a prisoner tortured by his own sharpest tool The shadows of Altzhiemers Throwing a cloak of darkness Over his bright green eyes Eyes that I regularly looked to For wisdom and sage advice Forty-five years of our adventures And brotherhood still live in His soul and somewhere in His ravaged brain, bringing Smiles each time I come to visit I can’t hold his hand in mine because even light touch makes him wince in pain But, I tell him stories from Back in the day that brings him To laughter and visible joy for One fabulous moment of recognition He is an incredibly wealthy man Whose family built great railroads That connected the country from Coast to coast, governed states Served as wartime ambassadors Founded banking dynasties and Designated him a black sheep We spent lots of time at his beautiful 880-acre ranch at almost 9000 ft in Buckhorn Canyon, on the Border of Rocky Mountain Park A 150-acre farm in Bellevue as well As a home in Belize for diving trips I sit at a table with him before a Picture window that looks out at The Bellvue Dome cliffs where for many centuries of verbal history Native American tribes chased herds of Bison off the edge for the women Below to skin, stretch and preserve wisely preparing for winter to come As I get up from the table to leave I’m overwhelmed by grief because My old friend is lost within his shadows And I have no idea if I’ll ever See HIM again...