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To
Everything There is a Season: . A Time to Weep, A Time to
Laugh.
Ecclesiastes 3
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My
Memory's Just Fine, Thank you.
Just a line to say I'm living, That I'm not among the
dead. I'm just getting more forgetful, And more
mixed up in the head.
One thing I can't remember when I stand at the foot of the stair, Was I
going up for something Or did I just come down from there?
I stand before the refrigerator, My poor mind filled with
doubt: Have I just put the food away? Or
have I come to take it out?
Then snug in robe and nightgown, With curlers on my head . .
. Was I going to retire? Or . . . just getting out of bed?
So if it is my turn to write you There is no need of getting sore, I
probably think that I have written And don't want to be a bore.
I'm going out to mail this letter, For the mailman's almost here . . .
I look forward to your answer, For now, goodbye, my dear.
P.S.
There I stood beside the mailbox, With a face so very red, Instead of
mailing you my letter, I had opened it instead ! ! !
# # #
Return HOME from My
Memory's Just Fine Thank You
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