A Fading Mind
A Fading Mind Does she remember, oh does she remember? Does she remember my face, my voice, the mornings she cooked us breakfast before eight? Doe she remember the late night snacks and the laughter between our late day naps? Doe she remember me at all? I think not, her face is distant her, voice is subtle. Her memories are the repetition of years gone and years I was not around. I have grown, maybe that is it? Oh but no, for I can see it in her eyes, slightly nervous, confused of my presence. Who is this man she may be thinking? As I stare at her as if she is a stranger as well. An awkward separation of two that were once close. How strange a mind can lose what was once a fondness for us both. Frail her bones her posture odd. Her appetite weak and her friends, her friends I don't think know they are friends. It is an odd place for me, for us to be. No common ground but the soft sounds of Christmas in the background. She sings and I see her humor and joy have mad...