ANTIQUING WITH ALZHEIMER’S
That day you abandoned me
in the secondhand shop:
was it the shellacked dinner roll
in the gravy boat that set us off?
In the secondhand shop,
run by a miniature man,
the bread in the gravy boat set us off.
You opened a door, hoping to escape.
The miniature man
was humming “Amazing Grace”
and you opened a door, hoping to escape,
only to find a closet.
He was humming “Amazing Grace”
and you couldn’t contain yourself.
You walked into a closet
and that was it; you lost it.
You couldn’t contain yourself–
the bread, the boat, the hymn…
that was it. You lost it
and bolted.
The bread, the boat, the hymn:
you left me to face it
when you bolted.
I didn’t know where you had gone.
You left me to face it.
I finally found you in the car,
where you had gone to hide.
This was early on.
I finally found you in the car
and we laughed ourselves breathless.
This was early on,
if you remember.
We laughed ourselves breathless
about the shellacked dinner roll.
Can you even remember
the day you abandoned me?