I find her in

Her room again,

Just like each day.

I smile and say,

“I’m Melinda.”

She rubs her chin,

“I know,” she says,

Just like always.

She doesn’t know,

But even though

She can’t remember

Who I am, her

Eyes light up at

Songs I sing that

Take her back to

Days of youth.

She grins and then

She joins in.

The vagary

Of memory

Allows her to

Recall Cuckoo;

A heifer queen;

A sunshine beam;

A flop-eared hound;

Grace’s sweet sound;

And all the while

Forget her child

Who sits so near,

Singing through tears

Those old hill songs,

For love of Mom.