Love Patronus

I was four when you 

first became sad.

Mom says that’s why you

came to live with us.

 

The doctors call it depression.

I call it dementors.

 

They hovered over you as 

you struggled through college,

oblivious to their existence,

an evil presence casting 

a dark shadow over your personality

like the black cloaks

they wear

 

Everywhere you went,

dementors followed,

a trail of frost biting 

your heels, their breath

a chill in the air, 

keeping you in sweaters

on the warmest of days

 

For an eternity, they lingered,

gradually darkening your mood.

But their attack was sudden,

dementors circling you from the sky above,

their hunger for you ravenous

as a wolf in winter, dragging you down to

the cold concrete where they tried to kiss you,

sucking your happiest memories away,

leaving you numb,

without purpose,

even the most vibrant colors 

froze into lifeless grays

 

If I could,

I would use the time-turner keychain

you gave me from Harry Potter World

and go back to that day

and maybe the words, “Expecto Patronum" 

could penetrate the darkness

and protect you from those monsters

 

But the time-turner was only a keychain

and it broke, and the past 

is as permanent 

as my love for you,

so there's no going back,

only forward

 

So instead of 

“Expecto Patronum”

we will chant prayers

as we join hands

and surround you as a family,

for I feel as if our prayers create

a powerful force, a love patronus.

And when I close my eyes

I see your Guardian

stalking out into the night,

a Lion shielding His daughter,

His roar sending trembles 

to the earth’s dark core

 

That’s how I imagine prayers—

old magic deeper than dementors, than

depression.  But I know you still feel

that cold, despairing grayness—

a wraith haunting your thoughts, 

dementors lurking, but, I pray, keeping 

their distance, afraid of the roaring 

in our prayers. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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