A reflection on time, current affairs, and the loss of memory.
I visited my aunt today, clear, alert:
Who would think the memories hurt?
Fragmented, the present slips away,
And tomorrow is now yesterday,
Last year, or even ten years gone by:
Time and dementia, they never fly;
So she talks of having been to town,
Only last week, and I feel a bit down:
Because I know it never came to be,
But for her, it is totally real, you see;
False memory, or one so long ago,
Frozen like icebergs in time’s flow,
And no awareness, but also no fear;
And sometimes, the present there,
Bleeds into this narrative, this story:
Boris Johnson resigns! He’s history!
But I know that in just a week or two
It may be lost; Boris resigns. Who?
Yet cheerfulness pervades, is there,
And that is something to hold so dear,
As time robs her of short term days:
A journey into a past, of winding ways;
Old age is never easy. But for now, no pain
Just fading away, softly falling summer rain.
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