A poem by Beverly Stock.
My good friend asks where have I been.
Questions in a cerebral spin,
A random thought announced out loud,
Synapse circling through a cloud.
She asks me if I’m friends with her,
Or has ugly betrayal occurred.
Our allegiance is now obscured,
By cognitive change, with no cure.
Gaps in synaps interpretations,
Chasms in speech, perseveration,
Heart aching with deep confusion.
Can I ease her transition?
Numb aggression into remission
Bring some order to her chaos
Add routine to build acceptance.
Place her red couch against the wall.
Photos above that, large and small,
Of faces that she knows so well,
Might afford a “place” to dwell.
When she forgets, I’ll say my name
Smile and abide, and then reclaim
Our old routines we will perform,
Re-introductions, our new norm.