Though curtains drawn and lighting low,
it’s obvious to those around -
whose faces, names I do not know,
unrecognised as my new norm.
That fog descends, in daily fug,
depression, Lewy, drugs, combined
with podcast news, dementia bug
rates so much higher with disease.
The irony, to clarify
(like butter drizzled, curry ghee),
there is no way to quantify
effects, such mist, on poetry.
Sum, say it may be fewer words,
a haiku counting syllables,
or knot tied up as if absurd,
the logic licenced in the verse.
Transparent, many, who bear care,
it’s plain that lucid in retreat,
as manifest to those who share,
self-unaware, that synapse clogged.
They say it’s better, not to know,
that unimpeded, way ahead -
save for brief moments when on show -
no obstacles to downward trip.
Thank you Stephen. The whole cognitive decline message is raw with me and many of my own feelings are well represented here. As a fellow wordplay enthusiast I love the reference to Ghee - Clarified butter
Very moving, Stephen thank you.
Very cleverly written so I think predictions of your decline are premature! Poignant and thought provoking. Thank you.