You touch the light switch,
you touch it again.
One more time for good measure.
A treasure to be sure,
but battling a compulsion
and repulsion that threatens your
sanity. There is no vanity
in your foible. A matter of mind over
repetitive matter, repetitive matter.
Rest assured.
The light is out.
The door is locked.
Your slippers rest at the edge of the bed,
facing south,
and crossed the way
your feet hit the floor
every morning.
Every morning
despite your malady, the reality
is that I wouldn’t change a thing about you.
I’ll just remain here and we’ll get you through.
We can do this, together.
I’ll love you for a day,
and a day, and a day!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides – Prompt #366:Write a “plus one” poem



  1. This kind of brought a tear to my eye. What a difficult condition for the person who has it and those who love them. That ending just grabbed me, Walt. And, really, for all of us–it’s love for a day and a day and a day.

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