Lost Memories--Iain L. Luen
This change, this downward spiral, a sense of loss sweeps me away
I see fine detail, my childhood returned, a swing reaching the sky
But what of yesterday? If such a thing even exists, I cannot recall
I hear tales of wonder, of last year’s summer trip. Was that me?
Where is my puppy, Spotty? He was my present. It’s great to be eight
I’m told this is a nursing home. I’ll be cared for, and safe, and won’t get lost
Safe from whom? The man in the mirror? Someone wipes drool from my chin
The man in the mirror shares a picture frame with other strangers on the table
My favorite class is art. Next year, first grade. They say I’ll have to control my pee
The nurse sticks another needle in me, but I don’t want to be calm. Must break some. . .
This morning, I see the man in the picture is me. The mirror shows my hollow form
What have I become? Oh, I lost my train of thought, another visitor with sadness comes
I feel a sense of the familiar,