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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2110820
A daughter hopes to reach a mother suffering with Alzheimers.
Flights of Fancy

She had a wonderful way with words
the rolling waves were gymnasts
on a long tumble run
until they would collide with the shore

When summer thunder roared
and windows would rattle and shake
her stories of heavenly angels and bowling balls
would calm our childish fears

My mother is silent now
this once voluble woman
now lost in shadows and memories
side by side, we sit near the ocean

Her vein-aged hand is in mine
a hand that built castles in the sand
would point out animals in the clouds
a hand that taught me how to see

These days break my heart
I hope against hope she sees
that spark she once struck
burns bright still

A little girl sits with us
I tell her the rolling waves look like gymnasts
on a long tumble run
until the finally collide with the shore...

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