Theft

I remember
when I existed
in more than just a
scrap of your mind...
you knew my name,
the contour of my face,
my smooth petals
and my thorns,
in wild, blushing color.

That was before
the outlines of
forgetfulness
began encroaching,
to steal away
the me I was
in you.

Rose garden collage, from the Notebook Series (chronicle of care-giving experience with Gail’s mother). Gail Nadeau. Used with permission.