Friday, September 15, 2006

poetry thursday...late again.

to speak through another's voice,
see through their eyes,
empathize,
visualize,
what can i see
when you prompt me...
i chose my grandmother
who stubbornly set herself down
in my head yesterday and said
"this one is mine.
write it about me."

she had had alzheimers.



bright orange curls
and quick blue eyes
that's what i expect
to see.

but when they set
the mirror down-
the reflection
cannot possibly be...

who is that woman?

she is not me.

she is old.
and lost.
and broken alone-
weary and sad,
the world no longer
known
to her
with memories
beginning to
lie.

she is not me.

where am i?

5 comments:

beth said...

I love the rhythm and rhyme. I also think it was interesting to read in your poem about the process of taking on another persona. Thanks for sharing!

Anonymous said...

Wow, the part "memories beginning to lie." is so heartbreaking. You tell it well.

lisrobbe said...

Late or not, this was very moving. I have seen this illness as well and it is so heartbreaking.

Deb R said...

That's so sad and touching and seems to true to what it must be like. (One of my grandmas had Alzheimers too)

mareymercy said...

I agree - sad and touching. Very effective.