The Long Road Home

by

Phil Pochurek

I watched my dad as he got older
Put his arm around my waist
And his head on my shoulder,
Then ask me who I was.
We would go for a walk
Or just sit and talk,
About nothing in particular.
About nothing at all.
But with feeling, and heart, that was dad.
Memories of people and places, lost in time.
Lost in his mind and gradually slipping away.
Everyday is a struggle, a challenge
Filled with anxieties and too many choices.
A stranger to himself, lost in his own home.
Going home, gotta go, gotta go
Every half hour he's gotta go, home.
But he never will.
For him each day, will always stay
Just out of reach, out of touch
With the world as we know it.
And I wonder as I help him dressing
If this isn't just a blessing, in disguise.
And I'm sorry dad has to go this way
But I'll be here for him
Like he was for me, until the day
He finally goes home.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at For mouths of understanding
by: M A Heathcote
from: Manchester, England, UK

To visit all of Phil Pochurek's poems, click HERE

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