She forgets the simple tasks
Ones performed most every day
Hiding cautiously, behind a mask
Knows, sometimes, life can be this way

Asks the same questions over
Then remembers, she already did
Confusion covers ground, like clover
As the memories start to skid

What’s today, she wonders aloud
The hours fly by, without worry
Afraid to ask, for she is too proud
Yet this time is becoming more blurry

A simple sigh, is all she can speak
Though her words are clear and concise
Aging, becoming fragile and weak
Growing old, she’s paying the price

 

©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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