John Daley


She would go about her day
Any song that came to her head.
She was the ultimate matriarch
Ruling of her pride with
with a loving care that gave her
the respect from us
That soldiers show their commander.
She would reminisce,
And you would sit captivated
By these astonishing stories
Of what she did
When women had few rights.
She would always look out when you felt no one was watching
And listen when you thought no one heard.
She was the center of our family.
Yet soon we found out the news
That left us shaking with disbelief.
To go from intelligent and wise to
Not knowing whose who and what’s what.
She can not recognize us
And will mis-recognize the people
Closest too her.
I became,
Not the offspring of hers,
Yet her own,
As her own became apart
Of the flesh and blood she had come from.
Time stood still for her,
Stuck in the past, unable to go to the future.
Her memories fade;
Recognition becomes distinct;
And the people she loved most
She won’t know.
Yet somehow, she remains
The sweet, loving women she was
Always cheery, with a laugh at bay
Ready to smile when you have something to say.
Yet even though she might not know us,
I’ll always know
That she’ll never stop loving us.


Copyright © 2002-2010 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2010 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.