like the empty cidada shell
. . . nothing within,
no childhood,
no memories
of mother, father, sisters, brothers.
Empty of memories,
I am a hull of life,
long escaped.
The mirror shows no reflection.
Windows are drawn
on my soul,
long escaped.
Do not leave me
hidden away in here.
Seek, and you will find me
somewhere
in this cicada-like shell
. . . cloistered, safely, away.
-Joy Stalvey Barefoot
(written after being confronted several times with Alzheimer's disease)
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