"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray

"Poetry unites." ~Anon

"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson


Written by Sarah Copeland
She lives in Gabriola Island, Canada


Searches

She weeps as she searches
in the cupboards, under the bed;
I search too as I follow her
from room to room, day to day;

when she sits and strokes the couch
cushions all faded orange and tries
to remember the morning's memories,
I am there too watching and waiting;

we sit, just the two of us there
and say her name over and over,
she starts in a decaying whisper
and ends in a frightened scream;

she's chasing the sun's rays with tired
eyes as she rises to search again
under flowerpots, behind the maple tree;
I search too, room to room, year to year.

Originally published on writer's personal blog.
Posted with consent of the writer.

4 Comments:

  1. Anonymous said...
    great blog! found you on your old one - this poem makes me want to cry. it brings back memories of my grandmother who suffered dementia and died when i was 14.

    Carol
    deola said...
    I like this one!
    Donna said...
    Lovely writing!

    Good luck with your new blog:)
    WHY said...
    Four stars!!

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