Tell me Your Name
You are sad I cannot remember you?
I feel sadness about many things.
Don’t keep asking me who you are –
please tell me your name.
I see a photograph on the wall,
it’s me as a young man
no, I cannot recall
my deceased wife’s name.
Don’t keep asking me, as if
it might come back to me.
I remember I wore a red tie
to high school graduation,
a gift from my mother –
what did you say your name is?
I don’t know where I am,
the people here seem friendly;
can I please go home today?
Now, you look sad again…
I cannot think of any words to say;
did you ask a question just now?
Outside the window it looks like spring;
I’d like to go outdoors, please.
I hear nice music playing nearby;
will you push my chair closer?
I’m sorry I’ve forgotten again;
I’ll try to remember, just tell me your name.
Aftermath
Camp Fire
memorial
Scorched blackened beams
lay crisscrossed over fallen rubble,
ruined walls decimated
into haphazard heaps,
unrecognizable lumps,
someone’s former home.
Among scorched grass and trees,
a brick sentry remains -
lone witness to vast devastation,
burnt embers, smoldering ashes
accumulate among the residue
of unspoken screams.
A squirrel raises his head to listen;
weary whispers quiver in the aftermath
amidst damp decaying debris.
The Game
Governess looks on
Mary teaches the game to her sisters
Middle holds her hand up to dissuade Lisbeth
from bothering the chess pieces
So serious, this Meg, the thinker…
Governess has seen her sneak books on history and art
whilst Mary dreams of husband and children,
learned chess from the Earl
Their father rarely speaks since his wife’s death
Mary can reach him, smiles and bright colored gown
Lisbeth the silly girl, the youngest
taunts and teases patient sisters
Dresses bound up, braids tight, jeweled bands
baubles saved from a mother long gone
A summer outing, the game
Governess looks on