Now here, sometimes not

She fades beyond reach.
Talking halfway. Pausing.
She stares without blinking.
Then she’s back to now.

The fall, she weeps.
The worst awaited.
A stomach bleed. Pain!
Of nightmares in hospitals.

It’s been a few weeks.
The mind playing tricks.
Back home, yet not there.
The hospital her reality.

There is pain; confusion!
The past emerging often.
Lost beyond; back here.
Fear of being abandoned.

Of friends visiting.
Names of long gone.
Of family she sees.
They, who are not here.

She forgets me.
A stranger to her.
I call out to her.
Mum! I am here.

Her shakey hands grip mine.
She holds unto this for today.
Now here, sometimes not.
I try to stay strong for her.

By C.E. Pereira
(10-4-2019)

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