Prescription For Laughter
2009-12-18 by Eva Rosenberg
Just a line to say I’m living, that I’m not among the dead.
Though I’m getting more forgetful and mixed up in my head.
I got used to my arthritis, to my dentures I’m resigned.
I can manage my bifocals, but God, I miss my mind.
For sometimes I can’t remember when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something or have just come down from there.
And before the fridge so often, my poor mind is filled with doubt,
Have I just put food away , or have I come to take some out.
And there’s times when it is dark and my nightcap’s on my head,
I don’t know if I’m retiring, or just getting out of bed.
So, if it’s my turn to write to you there’s no need for getting sore,
I may think that I have written, and don’t want to be a bore.
So, remember that I love you, and wish that you were near.
But now it’s nearly mail time, so I must say goodbye dear.
Here I stand beside the mailbox with a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter, I have opened it instead.
—Anonymous
Courtesy of Ian Purdie in Australia of http://www.electronics-tutorials.com/.
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