Surrounded by lush gardens,
The nursing home stood
Stark-bleak-lifeless
Mirroring the old souls
Within its walls
Housed and sheltered
My dad waited there
In his last refuge
Separated from a world
He no longer understood
Before each visit, I agonized
Would he recognize me?
Could he remember his home?
Would he beg to return?
How will I respond?
If I speak of memories shared
Will this stir fleeting moments
Of good-times past
Making it painful to remain
Where I knew he must?
He never asked about…
Relatives, friends, or home
This was his home, his reality
I was the one who had to adjust
As home is where the mind is
I watered the lush gardens
With my tears
Very sad, but superb poem. Very admiring of the tragic ironic twist of 'adjusting' and 'lush gardens'. -chuck
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very moving and expressive poem Stanley, you write about a difficult situation and I know just how you felt about it, I had to do the same with my Mother, and one feels such a guilt, but they can no longer survive out in the harsh world. Very well written and a great read. Love Ernestine XXX