Security Checkpoint
You had to pass through security
and insisted you could stand
on your own two feet
and progress of your own volition.
Though your wheelchair
and diagnosed dementia
evidence to the contrary,
I figured: Who would it hurt?
The stares of strangers
as I held your hands
and helped you to your feet
informed me that I might be hurt --
Poor dear, so young to have
to care for one so old!
Or, perhaps, hurting you --
How could she put
him through this?
With the weight of their eyes upon
us, you leaned on me and lurched:
arduous, shuffling, inching on
until you passed through security.
You made it to the other side
with a walk you won't remember,
and I'll not soon forget.
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