To Be 94 {a #poem}
I’d sure like a cup of coffee.
The grounds go in the top, but where?
And here is the glass pitcher
6 cups full of water
but I don’t remember
where to pour it.
My mind is like a leaky bucket,
a sad sieve that saves
less and less these days,
an empty, worn-out basket.
If I could stop up the holes,
plug the places
where my mind has slipped out
perhaps I could remember
where to pour the water.
I DO remember this–
I’d sure like a cup of coffee.
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Caring for my mother in law who is at home with us… Changes are coming faster than we would all like.
It is hard for us to watch, but it must be awful for her. Writing in this space helps.
