Dementia

She sits before the open window a slight breeze not enough to cool her watching as the curtains stir she thinks they are speaking words that she can't quiet hear memories come and go-mainly of long ago yesterday, that was just another day already forgotten her eyes close and faces appear of whom she cannot recall a smile plays on her lips-briefly it disappears and she looks pained she hears rumblings- her empty stomach? or was it coming from the darkening sky? an empty plate she saw it as it sat on the table fear creeps in, what is my name? why am I here alone? she asks the empty room but it does not answer.