Hi Michelene,
Just a line to say I’m living
That I’m not among the dead;
Though I’m getting more forgetful
And more mixed up in the head.
For sometimes I can’t remember,
When I stand at the foot of the stair,
If I must go up for something
Or I’ve just come down from there.
And before the fridge, so often,
My poor mind is filled with doubt
Have I just put food away, or
Have I come to take some out.
And there’s times when it’s dark out,
With my night cap on my head,
I don’t know if I’m retiring,
Or just getting out of bed.
So, if it’s my turn to write you,
There’s no need to getting sore,
I may think I have written
And don’t want to be a bore.
So, remember, I do care about you,
And I wish that you were here,
And so it is now nearly mail time,
So I must say, “goodbye dear”
There I stood before the mailbox,
With face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I have opened it instead.
