The disappearing is gentle, at first
A forgotten name, a missed appointment
Then a trickle of problems with focus
But the core, the essence holds true.
The erosion feeds on itself, cutting away
Remembered passwords and directions
And backfilling with panic and fear
But the love, the caring stays firm
Sentences are filled with silences
Echoing with the lost names of things
Days are squandered on little things done badly
But the intentions, if anything, are purer.
We live for now, for we know
That tomorrow will be less
And tomorrows will be fewer
But hold each other more tightly.
Ed Ahern resumed writing after forty odd years in foreign intelligence and international sales. He’s had over three hundred stories and poems published so far, and six books. Ed works the other side of writing at Bewildering Stories, where he sits on the review board and manages a posse of nine review editors.