The fragile span of Memory’s bridge,
Through Life’s most unexpected phase,
In a bitter spell of mental chill,
Soon disappears in swirls of haze;
The crossing between now and then
Lost in Time’s cerebral maze.
There loom the hunting fields of years,
No matter what the numbers be,
Across which stalks in silence grave —
Alzheimer, subtle, wild and free,
Cold and totally unsparing —
A terrible blight on Memory.
Alzheimer’s clammy claws of pain
Reaches deeper through Life’s core
When evening shadows creep into
Nights much darker than before,
And Life becomes but meaningless,
Berthed along its only shore.