Chopped root, in the dark subsoil of the mind;
protected only by its own forgetfulness;
seeking occasionally, with weak desperation
for the light it once (perhaps?) remembers;
...
Read full text
Michael, this is a great write, it speaks to me as my father who we care for sadly suffers from Dementia, I did not know what to expect when I saw your poem and well I'm glad I looked..10 Andy
Sally, thanks. The third verse was my own realisation of the situation and how I must deal with it.. as if she were - as she had become - a 'beloved stranger' to me.. it required an extra detachment; but in a way, it's quite cleansing of sentiment and personal achievement and stuff...Thank God for poetry in which to share and gently warn.. Michael
Having read your biography, I venture a comment with some trepidation! I found this a powerful and fascinating poem, no doubt because I have a sister in law with early onset dementia, which began probably around 50. I have thought about trying to write a poem about her, but so far found the subject too daunting. I found the imagery in the first verse fantastic, and verse two a reflection of reality. But what made me read it over and over was verse three. May I ask whether you are talking about a relative who loves everyone, regardless of who they are? Or does it refer to you yourself, either caring for several people, or someone whose personality has shattered into many? Either way, a brilliant write. Thank you.
Andy, sympathy..a sadness we need to share. Michael.