poem: the start of our day at home

poem: the start of our day at home

hearing her soft
murmuring
upstairs in bed
I leave my writing to check on her

she awakens
from her deep overnight sleep
with her first words to me,
‘I am here’

brushing her hair
putting on her robe
and house shoes
descending the stairs

she lies on the couch
facing the front window
with blankets piled high
while I finish my writing

after some time
I ask her,
“Are you ready for
breakfast”

she responding,
blissfully,
“No, I love the silence,
I love this place”

then, after breakfast,
she strolls through the house,
as if in some distant grand villa,
saying, “I love coming here”

morning, at home,
together, starting
another magical day
of demands and surprises

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
November 13, 2021

Author’s note: Some
reflections on caring for
a loved one with Alzheimers.

photos by author

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