Create interests for yourself,
a house becomes a cage
when love goes.
She said those words to a
friend of a friend awhile ago,
feeling so wise for one
so young, for one with love
taken for granted -- as memory
is also taken for granted,
not expected to go.
Now, in this house, her
father putters around caregivers
who come and go, come and go,
like his flickering memory
turning to dust -- and she
comes and goes less and
stays more and more, caged,
hoping for one more lucid
smile, one more time to hear,
How's my darlin' girl today?
before love and memory
become only a mime's act.
Written for The Mag: Mag 214 that inspired with the above image prompt
(photo by Kelsey Hannah).
.
