Old Man Thomas Wanders Into the Right House
Imagination keeps me awake
Noises in the kitchen make me shake
It’s just Old Man Thomas trying to bake
At least he ended here, not in the lake.
Alzheimer’s confuses him, the poor dear.
The neighbors know him from far and near.
We leave our houses unlocked for him
He often wanders at night on a whim
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment