Summer Breeze On A Winters Day (A Reflection On Alzheimer’s Disease)

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Summer Breeze On A Winters Day

I walk among lost souls who /live in a land of despair and confusion/ spending their time adrift on dark seas or /pitching through the gales of their personal storms.

Their eyes stare out from darkened rooms at /a world that’s only vaguely familiar;/a place they may have visited once upon a time/ in a dream.

To them, I’m a moving object/ uttering a strange language in an /unfamiliar world. / I can’t touch them because time gone by is their only refuge and /I don’t live among the ghosts of their past.

Their light is an infrequent moon glow,/an occasional blaze of lightening, or/a meager sunrise.

Bright sunlight is as infrequent to them as /a summer breeze on a winters day is,/to you and me.

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