Notes About The Poem
The sadness of dementia ~
Annmarie
Shimmered gold thin hair, heart
shaped face,
innocent look with love’s trace.
She was petite and tanned from
the summery sun-
ivory lace dress past her knees,
how beauteous youth can be.
Those July afternoons of chilled
iced tea,
she gave birth in the years to three.
The Long Island queen,
is it a dream-
that I see you fair again so carefree,
in the days of the pretty Annmarie.
When we’re in the tender age,
we don’t think that will change,
til the thief ancient and gray
took her memory away.
I’ve wept for what you lost,
it came at such a cost.
I know you’ve had some joy
in life,
my brother’s wife.
I recall the days of the pretty Annmarie,
sparkled eyes of depth and brave,
once the color of the Fire Island waves.
I remember the melodious Annmarie,
walking with her children by the sea. ~
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