Amie McGraham
2 pm/somewhere over Texas
every time I close my eyes
(i am so awfully tired)
i see my mother’s closed eyes
the bony arms, thin
as needles
half awake i doze, asleep
in the stillness of an empty airplane—this
timeless space
holding my breath
(one moment, a lifetime)
the 5-year reel
unspools. the paradox of
dementia memories
my mind sore
my world
hurts
(she is so frail. And tiny. i
start to cry)
i will not see her again
—Submitted on 03/25/2020
Amie McGraham grew up off the coast of Maine. She holds a BA from Arizona State University, and splits her time between Maine and Arizona. Her blog, This Demented Life, chronicles her journey as caregiver to a mother with Alzheimer’s.
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