Poem About My Mother

I’m thinking of writing a poem

About my mother

She’s in a home now

One of those homes

For people who can’t remember things

This is very worrying

As both my Mother

And my Dad’s mother

Had that disease

It’s on both sides of the family

It affects your short term memory first

I mean

Have you ever found yourself

Walking into a room

And wondering why you are there?

We’re clearing out our parents’ house

My sisters and I

Boxes and boxes

Of accumulated stuff

Rubbish, ordinary things

And a few treasures

Dad’s suits are still hanging

In the wardrobe

Destined for the charity shop

Probably in fashion again soon

Dad died fifteen years ago

We also found a brush

With hair still attached

It could be Dad’s.

Dad’s DNA

Still with us, after all this time.

Of course, it could be the dog’s hair.

The dog died around the same time.

Or it could Mum’s hair.

She’s still with us

She’s in a home now

One of those homes

For people who can’t remember things

This is very worrying

As both my Mother

And my Dad’s mother

Had that disease

It’s on both sides of the family

It affects your short term memory first

I mean

Have you ever found yourself

Walking into a poem

And wondering how it’s going to end?