Mirror
I caught them watching me, saying I’m slipping
away, just like Aunt Brenda did, 50 years
ago. Sick. I’ll dig in the trash, grab scraps, torn
paper that Mommy threw away. I dig past bones
and grease and clutter of things left behind, to save
what everyone sees as junk. It’s precious.
Should be left untouched. I know they wonder
of what will become of me when I’m old, but
I have it under control. Things are okay. Not
normal but still okay. Healthy. But we’ll watch
the clock hands tick and tick and tick away.
I liked this one a lot. These lines, “I dig past bones and grease and clutter of things left behind, to save what everyone sees as junk. It’s precious.” I felt it singing in my soul. And, “But we’ll watch the clock hands tick and tick and tick away.” This suggested to me that being “okay” and “healthy” may not withstand the test of time. Nicely done.