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 stairs,
If I must go up for something
or I’ve just come down from there?
And before the frig, 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 is 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 its my turn to write you,
there’s no need in getting sore,
I may think that I have written,
And don’t want to be a bore.
Do remember I do love you
and wish that you were here
but now, its nearly mail time
so I must say, “Good-bye” dear.
There I stood beside the mailbox
with my face so very Red,
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I had opened it instead.