The Stroke Poem by Raymond Farrell

Before the stroke
He was brash, often loud, forceful
But likeable nonetheless
January the eighth
Was the last
In three days
Of continuous snow
The county roads
And some of the side roads
Had been cleared of snow
When he went out
To snow blow his lane
He made a couple passes
Up and down the lane
Then dropped in his tracks
The ambulance arrived with difficulty
But in the end
He was airlifted into the city
In due course
He regained the ability to speak
But the movement on his right side
Remained impeded
Spring came and in early May
I decided to drive out
And see how he was doing
I arrived to the warm welcome
Of a toasty kitchen
With a fire in the wood stove
A cup of tea and pumpkin muffins
Small talk and catching up
On the latest news
Gave way to addressing
The serious issues
That needed to be discussed
Its not like he and I
Were strangers
Our families were distantly related
So there was no attempt
To put on airs
The Ottawa Valley Irish
Are cordial and matter of fact people
So when I asked
Whether or not
He'd given any thought
To changing his living arangements
He told me he'd thought it over
And had decided to stay put
I'd rather be dead
Than live in town
With that confusion
His wife said
Hes made up his mind
As I drove into town
The apples trees were blooming
Some patches of snow
Could still be seen in the bush
But it was Spring for sure
Because the barn swallows
Were sitting in rows
On the wires
As I made my way down the side road
A flock of seven wild turkeys
Crossed the road in front of me
I stopped to yield the way
But the last one got skittish
And took to flight
Where the side road
Met the county road
A small settlement
Straddled the roads
With barking dogs
Wrecked half-cannabalized cars
Were everywhere
And free ranging chickens
Strutted around the yards
The paved county road
Led to the highway
Row after row of houses
Then a trailer park
And finally the highway
All along it
Were abandoned strip malls
With ramshackled buildings
In a state of disrepair
By the time I reached the town
I understood
Why he wanted to stay put
It was this or that
Not this and that
And he had made his choice
And for the level of tranquility he enjoyed
I think he was right.