"Alzheimer's" by Kelly Cherry

 Kelly Cherry is an author, poet, and the former Poet Laureate of Virginia. She was born in December of 1940 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. She is currently 73 years old and lives on a small farm in Virginia.

Alzheimer's

He stands at the door, a crazy old man
Back from the hospital, his mind rattling
like the suitcase, swinging from his hand,
That contains shaving cream, a piggy bank,
A book he sometimes pretends to read,
His clothes. On the brick wall beside him
Roses and columbine slug it out for space, claw the mortar.
The sun is shining, as it does late in the afternoon
in England, after rain.
Sun hardens the house, reifies it,
Strikes the iron grillwork like a smithy
and sparks fly off, burning in the bushes--
the rosebushes--
While the white wood trim defines solidity in space.
This is his house. He remembers it as his,
Remembers the walkway he built between the front room
and the garage, the rhododendron he planted in back,
the car he used to drive. He remembers himself,
A younger man, in a tweed hat, a man who loved
Music. There is no time for that now. No time for music,
The peculiar screeching of strings, the luxurious
Fiddling with emotion.
Other things have become more urgent.
Other matters are now of greater import, have more
Consequence, must be attended to. The first
Thing he must do, now that he is home, is decide who
This woman is, this old, white-haired woman
Standing here in the doorway,
Welcoming him in. 

This poem displays a reminiscent tone, depicted through the man's thoughts. He lacks memories pertaining to his surroundings, although they seem familiar to him. He remembers his house, his car, and even himself in his younger years, but the fact that his past experiences evade him when thinking about these subjects does not phase him, for "other things have become more urgent." This urgency comes from his meeting with the old, white-haired woman who is presumably his wife and the fact that he cannot conjure a memory of old for who she is upsets him. But still she is welcoming of this "crazy old man" whose mind rattles because of the terrible disease that plagues him. She still remembers the days that have passed, the memories that have evaded the old man. When he approaches the house, the author's vivid descriptions of what he observes, with "the sun harden[ing] the house" and its "white wood trim" give the impression that perhaps not all of his memories have departed or rather he had reclaimed some of them with the sight of his old home, but it seems to be a struggle just to come upon these recollections. The next few lines are structured in a way that seem forced, with short simple sentences such as, " this is his house," and "the car he used to drive," giving the sense that rediscovering these thoughts are much harder than before. Difficult as it may be, he still pursues his memories, one by one, starting with the person who completes him.

Labels: Tone