Member-only story
Where the Lost Things Go
In the cradle of memories
Scent remembers
What the mind can’t —
But best of all
It brings back feelings.
All of them
cascading onto
our senses with abandon.
When our bodies
wither to wicker
brittleness —
An infusion of tea
rewarms our tastebuds
with childhood parties
sillier than the Madhatter’s.
Happy Times
make
happier memories.
Don’t fret
when a loved one
can no longer say things.
The moments live inside.
Clicking steadily like
slides awaiting
a new carousel tray.
My elders sister have memory loss. I grew up knowing they experienced the world differently, in a way I couldn’t participate in. The joy is that they know me and trust me.





