“Old Age is Losing Everything”
You unlock your door to a dark room
Your fingers touch the wall, switch on
The light. Familiar things leap into your
Sight: The table, chairs, the TV set
Pictures everywhere – on good days
You can remember all those names.
In another room, your bed awaits.
A dresser with mirror, a clock radio
That lets you know the time. The empty
Hours waiting to be filled, the names of days…
You are familiar with the face in the mirror
The source of all that has disappeared. A
Stern taskmaster with her basket of words.
You remember: Daughter, son, grandchild
Soft, hard, pain, ache, dead, alive, hurt. Lost.
Somewhere, another country waits. You have
Forgotten how to get there. You have no maps.
You can visit it in your dreams. Now and then,
People from that country will visit you.. Then
For a while, you are in that remembered world.
Names are mentioned, pictures shown. Yes!
You say. My son, my grandchildren. Yes! Yes!
Most nights, you hear the wind. It curves around
The corner of the building where you live. The wind
Is filled with voices. “Beware!” they cry. “You will
Loose everything! Nothing will be saved! Oh, lost,
Lost, lost! all Alone! Alone! Aloooooone