Our Conversation- a poem in honor of Moma during her dementia years

Good morning, who are you?

And what am I supposed to do?

Today I have so many plans.

I need to know where I’m to stand.

I still have lots of things to say.

Will you please just go away?

And leave me here with my delight.

But wait, here comes the dreaded fright.

I love you so. Are you my mom?

I’m glad you’re here. Why did you come?

No matter what you hear or see,

Please know that I am still just me.

Retm

Atwaba ❤️❤️