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  • Writer's pictureVilma Ginzberg

Age-related memory impairment

every once in a while

I stand on this island of time

without purpose or intent

unmoored from my craft

cut off from my history

it is a lonely place

this unknown fog-wrapped shore

where yesterday has disappeared

tomorrow seems out of reach

and I am not sure of my path

or if my call will be answered

until now I have been allowed

after a little while

to return home

to my clear-skied mainland

where my mind and I

hug each other in relief

and play again

in the sandbox of my elderhood

as if being whole

were a holiday gift

to be treasured

© Vilma Ginzberg, 02-16-2022

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1 Comment

Mar 20, 2022

Wise and wonderful poem -- thanks for continuing to speak to us from your ever-changing shores..



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