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.
Copyright © Julie Achilles | Year Posted 2020
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