Forgotten Man
By Mike Melville-Reed
He stumbled into the blizzard before him
The cold, like the lashes of a whip, tore at his skin
His hands were red and raw but he didn't feel pain much anymore.
He was confused and bruised from hitting the ground
But he didn't complain didn't make a sound
He felt numb in more ways than one,
His life had been like walking headlong into that storm
It seemed he had struggled since the day he was born,
His family were bereft of wealth living hand to mouth on a daily basis.
He sometimes remembered places
but had often forgotten faces and names
They were framed in polaroid glimpses now and again.
Ice stuck to his facial hair but he didn't care
Wet clothes clung to his skin, he squinted as snow drove into him,
He wasn't sure where he was going
but he sensed there was some purpose to his adventure,
That was the problem with dementia it took away day after day after day.
until there was no knowing- even loved ones
It was like a black cloud came and covered your bright sun.
Finally he could walk no more, he slipped to the floor
and backed himself against a tree wrapped arms around his knees
humming a childhood tune about dishes and spoons.
It was night, but around him the land was completely white and bright.
He laughed as he watched the flakes dancing around the street light
As it fell it swirled in the orange glow
and like a child he was captivated by the magic of snow.
It was now falling heavy and thick and had covered car and brick.
He suddenly had a vague recollection of that place
but in an instant it was gone and he became blank faced.
They found him the next day barely alive
But he was hospitalised and survived.
He was 100 yards from where he used to live before illness took hold,
half of the County were searching for him or so I'm told.
His wife made a passionate plea on tv
"Please find John he's 63 and never ventures out alone,
He needs to return to the Home"
But to him, of why or what happened he was blissfully unaware
Returned to care-
Not remembering that night or before
Or anymore.
This page was added on 11/05/2010.