Dementia decreases with Age 9-25-06
Walking through the doorway,
A whiff of the air,
Stuffy,
Dingy,
But not altogether a bad smell.
Bookshelves built into the walls,
Filled to the brim on every line,
New and old,
A hundred years for every story told.
Meet and greet
So long it’s been
Too bad we couldn’t stay as long
As you wished
But time is amiss
In this life we call good.
Don’t want to hug you,
Not of coldness of a youth
But you are so frail
And not the slightest in disrespect
but not a spring chicken at best.
I say no words
Not of rebellious anger
But of lack of mind,
Of wisdom,
Of complete and utter knowledge.
I am silent
The reason of
Time long past
Between generation of ignorance
I know no opportunity.
Smiling and nodding,
I am gracious
Filled to the brim with gratitude
From the haphazard gifts
That demeaned
The meaning of Santa
In my youngest Age.
I now understand
I now know
Where I come from
Where my stories were told
And until next time
I’ll hold Uncle Earl’s book close.
ViciousMakeout Community Member 
|
|
