What are you then,
when your memory
has come unmoored
and you don’t know
where and when you are,
or why or how you’re here?

I see you are the same inside —
it feels no different
to wander in those corridors
of mind, of time,
to play the rhythms
tapped into your psyche
from long ago events,
to hum, to breathe, to doze

Your loops of thought
don’t intersect with us,
but that makes little difference —
We’re the ones you struggle to place.
You are still your own companion,
the one who doesn’t fade away.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 28, 2016