Art Davis poetry

Arthur H. Davis and his dear wife Margaret are spending time with his family up north for the summer. Our writers' group met with Art before they left. We were moved especially by his poem on life with someone requiring succor:

Caregiver's Lament - - -

Days drudge down to uneasy calm.
Night arrives draped in fear
of what might happen--
based upon what has happened..

How I long for unfettered sleep....
The sun sets again on the undone.
The moon rises,
red from the warming,
Dimly lights my place,
this spit of sand.

The one I've loved so long
sleeps fitfully,
A body racked by age and Rxs,
Systems confused and dosed
by Science's fiction.

The night is kidnapped once again
by Dawn -- relentless the routine.

The loved one wakes - -
the one upon whom I shower care,
The one who reacts in temper to the
"Please Dear do's and don't's,"
My admonitions, attempted guidance,
Questioning, "Who prescribed that?"

Of what reward is this?
The battle of therapy continues unabated,
Therapy the enemy,
Pills the dwarfs of repair,
The caregiver, ever the necessary evil,
The bane of days -- Vigilante 24/7.

Visitors visit. Prayers vented.
Love brings sustenance.
Mail brings love.
The Children come,
bless them each.
They bring gifts, do things,
make decisions.
They cook, they clean, they depart.

The Caregiver remains, to wonder,
fear, mop, launder, cook -- HA!
React to every sigh,
every move, as the past is recalled....

Sleep still eludes each glue-footed
moment--every one. Searching
Heavenward I pray -- mutely ask
God, Have you heard my prayers?
So far, no thunderous response, no
burning bush, no prick of brain.

But dawns another day of survival, in
reasonable comfort. Another day to
care, to love, to hope.
He must have heard

(Copyright: Arthur H. Davis, 5/30/08, revised 3/25/09 -- used by permission)