Watching you
I notice
the way a life
narrows down
to such a few
simple things
Sunlight streaming in your window
to wrap you in a veil of warmth
a view of our pond
and the distant wooded hills
once apples, now grapes
your fingers roaming the pages
of fading photographs
the comfort of familiar food
and a newspaper from your hometown
This morning
I found your purse
hidden at the bottom of your laundry basket
and felt
your fear of things
slipping away
Sometimes, you tell me
you don't mind
that you're losing your mind
"I'm not in any pain" you say
and all the while
I, in another room,
sit in silence, every morning
hoping to lose my mind
In the way Guatama Buddha
lost his
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