Into the dark
My father cannot name a single
animal for the memory nurse. No farm or wild animal. Not even the simplicity of
dog or cat or any of the fish he used to catch.
I imagine them circling the dark
auditorium of his brain – sheep, lion, tiger, trout – a silent carousel refusing
to yield to the roll of his tongue.
Parkinson’s dementia
a blackbird almost invisible
in the winter's dusk
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