she does not remember
that i am her daughter
she thinks i am her sister

and asks how mother
feels today
she does not remember

that she has already
eaten lunch – her
favorite, grilled cheese

and tomato soup
even though the front
of her blouse is dotted

with soup spots
she does not remember
that her husband died

twenty years ago
and says she must get
home to fix dinner for Al

but as we walk down
the hall to her room –
arm in arm –

i smile while she sings
You Are My Sunshine
and she remembers

every word

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