<

Dear Friend:
Just a note to say I'm living, that I'm not among the dead.
Though I'm getting more forgetfull, and mixed up in the head.
I got use to my arthritis, to my dentures I'm resigned.
I can manage my bifocals, but.....Lord how I miss my mind.

Sometimes I can't remember when I stare at the foot of the stairs,
Was I just going up for something?, or have I just come down from there
I stand before the fridge at times with my poor mind filled with doubt.
Have I come to put some food away? or have I come to take some out?

There are times when it is dark out, with my nightcap on my head
I don't know if I'm retireing, or just getting out of bed.
So......If it is my turn to write to you, theres no need in getting sore.
I may think I have already written, and don't want to be a bore.

I do know that I miss you, and I wish that you were near.
and now its nearly mail time, so must say goodby my dear.
Now I stand by the mailbox with my face so very red.
Instead of mailing you this letter.....I have opened it instead!


|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|