Lost at Sea
Alzheimer’s Pantoum
I first noticed when we sailed as we often did from Robinhood Cove to Bath.
A thick fog swaddled the boat, mist of the lost clung to our clothes,
a distant one note lullaby, the foghorn sung from the rocks in our path.
Your face turned blank as an old tv, sweat static on your nose.
Now, as fog swaddles your face, I brush lost crumbs from your clothes.
You weep and repeat the old stories that I know aren’t true.
Your face as blank as old tv, a tear slips by your nose,
you pick up a bright ordinary object; ask what exactly does this do?
I tear up as you retell old stories that I know aren’t true.
Lobster for dinner, let’s go shopping for a big enough pot.
You brighten at the ordinary ask; pleased you know what to do.
I lose it when you ask again and again what butter costs.
Lobster for dinner, you say over and over, we need a big enough pot.
You wander, I find you holding socks, you say is this what I want?
Please forget that I snapped when you asked four times what butter costs.
Dear God, I can’t watch this, how much time have we got?
This is our life. You wander, I find you, holding socks. Is this what I want?
I’ll take you home, I’ll make do, I don’t need a lobster pot.
Dear God, I can’t bear it, how much time have we got?
Law and Order reruns, your fine mind, is that all you can watch?
We’ll stay home, we’ll make do, we don’t need more than we’ve got.
I will be patient, I promise, I’ll answer each question then another.
It’s fine if over and over, Law and Order is all that we watch.
We can see the Cove from our couch and chat about the cost of butter.
