of dementia nonsense before departing
By Simon Peter Eggertsen
my grandmother licks at a dried red peach,
thinks of her life still and the rust crush of age.
distracted by the jumble of weakened sense and memory:
she tastes the delicate blade of a gray winter knife
shave through the dense white matter of summer light;
she smells the prismed edges of sugary autumn sand
slip from the dull languor of blue summer dew;
she sees the glee of a thousand green spring wisps
chase away the doubt of black autumn shadows;
she hears the red-fire frenzy of a summer morning sky
subdue the cold aquamarine hues of winter-splayed 'cicles,
she feels the yellow veneer of a spring wind merry-go-round,
glaze into the orange haze of autumn's plumes;
she re-senses, without knowing, the color and order of her seasons.
Source: https://weber.edu/weberjournal/default.html
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