Lewy (Poem) | Lewy Body Dementia Association LBDA

Lewy (Poem)

Lois Letcher
Friday, September 27, 2019

I bend,

When your shaky grip lets go,

I bow: and yet it is not so very low,

To pick up the things you’ve dropped and did not mean to throw.

I pause,

When you slow your shuffling gait,

I breathe: and it is not arduous to wait,

To see the progress you’ve made, though again today, we will be late.

I bolt,

When in dreams, your flailing arms take flight,

I calm: and yet this faded bruise despite,

You would never hurt me, in sleep’s dark chasm, day or night.

I guide,

When it’s unclear how to don your clothes,

I pause: and gently lead each sleeve, with phrase reposed,

Playacting that it is new, tho’ yesterday, you donned it quite composed.

I soothe,

When anxieties tear through your mind,

I sigh: and wonder, when slumber claims you, will I find

The strength to guide my hands, for all the tasks of two, entwined?

I groan,

When bowels move sans warning and those near-by may see,

I cleanse: and next time – please do let us be

Safely at home, away from prying eyes, to preserve your dignity.

I sit,

When we for long-sought words do wait in urgent care,

I advocate: and relay your meds and symptoms, in detail, to doctors there,

Tho’ six long LBD years, relayed in a moment, feels much like solitaire.

I yearn,

When dreams and plans vanish; we know only an unknown,

I weep: and hope for renewed esprit, where one glance, one laugh – one simple tone

Reminds me – we are still together – I am not yet alone.