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"Alzheimer's" by Jane Hirshfield.

When a fine, old carpet
is eaten by mice,
the colors and patterns
of what's left behind
do not change.
As bedrock, tilted,
stays bedrock,
its purple and red striations unbroken.
Unstrippable birthright grandeur.
How are you," I asked,
not knowing what to expect.
"Contrary to Keatsian joy," he replied.



( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 1st, 2013 11:35 pm (UTC)
Beautiful poem. Is someone you know going through it?
Aug. 2nd, 2013 01:55 pm (UTC)
No, I looked up Jane Hirshfield because I saw her on a program about Buddhism & she was an engaging speaker. I liked this poem.

I suppose hotpantsgalore's new job is a lot of Alzheimer's patients.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )