By Fred Whitehead

I knew there would be

sweet spaces in his senility


filled with phrases

only the enlightened

of the world

would understand

I would shift restlessly

waiting for those times

learning the art of

code breaking

I would sit between the

machinery and bedrail

watching for the telltale

brightening of his eyes

anticipating the brief

straightening of the spine

that would signify the coming

of some great insight

he may have been

meditating on for years

one, only now

allowed to slip

through loose threads

in the faded tapestry

of his life

then this giant of a man

would again be in conversation

with any

number of people

but me

the only other

person in the room

FRED WHITEHEAD will be the featured reader of The Fourth Friday Poetry Series at 7 p.m. Friday at Dog Ears Bookstore, 688 Abbott Road. He is the author of four collections of poetry, including a new volume “Water From A Toad” (No Frills Buffalo Books) in which this poem appears.