Visits
He comes to visit twice a week
He only stays a little while
He tries to talk to hold his hand
He knows you can't understand
Dad sits in his wheelchair
Looking out the window
Daydreaming of being free
Looking to see what ever there is
To see
Just not looking for me
His mind has left him
His body is weak
He is a fragile old soul
His spirit is meek
He doesn't know me
Or anyone at all
He searches
For the past
In his heart
What was first
Remains last
I hold his hand
He clings to mine
He mumbles and stares into the air
I brush his balding head
With my hand
I wish I could stay longer
But Dad doesn't know
I see him for me
I see him for me
I'm his host and he my guest
Just for seconds
A minute or so
His eyes see me
His face smiles recognition
I smile and close my hand
Into his
Thank you Dad for your visit
It was good to be with you again
I wish we had longer
But I really must go
This place is nice
They take good care of him
So twice a week
I see him there
And I hope
He visits me
Visits
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