Reason A. Poteet Poet Free verse

Visiting Hours

The hands circle the clock
as I watch the minutes pass
into soundless history.

After a time or so
his eyes speak and vocal cords
try once again to master

that foreign language spoken
by both the aged and the young
when thoughts cannot find the words.

My hands cradle his face
as I kiss the salty brow
of his altered memory.

While teardrops freely flow
our eyes meet and two soul mates
sing an old refrain together

in a language understood
by both musicians and poets
when rhythm strikes the right chords.

June 26, 2019

contest:  Poetry Anthology, Music Theme Poetry Contest by Geraldine Taylor

to honor the work being done in using music to spark the
memory of patients with Alzheimer’s disease and dementia.
written originally for an online newsletter, Music Therapy Matters, Spring 2008, Angie Elkins, editor.

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Barbara Barry-Nishanian July 13, 2019 at 2:55 PM "altered memory"...painful to observe! This beautiful and painful to read.

Caren Krutsinger June 27, 2019 at 10:48 AM This one struck me in the solar plexus, as my father died from this horrible disease. One second he was there, the next, gone. So horrible. Well done indeed. Reason A. Poteet June 29, 2019 at 1:42 PM So sorry for your loss. It is a terrible affliction for the family in particular, not being able to communicate, not knowing what he/she understands. Thanks for commenting.