Just a line to say I'm living,
that I'm not among the dead. 
Though I'm getting more forgetful
and more mixed up in my head. 

I've got use to my arthritis,
to my dentures I'm resigned. 
I can manage my bifocals,
but, oh god, I miss my mind.

For sometimes I can't remember,
when I stand at the foot of the stairs.
If I must go up for something,
or I've just came down from there. 

And before the fridge, so often
my poor mind filled with doubt,
have I just put food away, or
have I come to take some out? 

And there's time when it is dark,
with my nightcap on my head
I don't know if I'm retiring, or
just getting out of bed. 

So if it's my turn to write you
there's no need getting sore,
I may think that I have written
and don't want to be a bore. 

So remember, I do love you,
and wish that you were near
but it's nearly mail time,
so must say, "Goodbye Dear"

Love, Me

PS. Here I stand beside the mailbox,
with face so very red,
instead of mailing you my letter,
I've opened it instead!!!