By: Kate Bruncati
Smith College, MA, USA
The words are right there
Hanging in the strands of my gray hair
This problem is something I can’t bear
I just can’t reach them; this illness is unfair
Who’s that? I remember that face
Where am I? I remember this place
My memory is losing the race
As past knowledge dies with no trace
Who am I? What’s my name?
Why can’t I win this twisted game?
This disease is all to blame
It leaves me frustrated, burning like a flame
My brain is empty and no answers are coming out
I stomp my feet and start to pout
This is some sick memory drought
Wait, what was I thinking about?
I shake my head and pick up a photo
Who’s that pretty lady in it, though?
There’s no resemblance to show
But those eyes have a familiar glow
I ask the nurse who’s standing by the door
After showing it to her, her face grows red, more and more
Of course, I don’t know that I’ve seen her before
Or that she’s my sister Lenore
I drop the picture and walk away
Leaving behind a memento in such a careless way
For in that picture stood my daughter Kay
Smiling on her gracious wedding day