Senility

Old age is not for the timid.

Safe
alone and afraid, she was
now there is the quiet darkness;
the safety of her room.

The lights
harsh and penetrative
glaring at her vulnerability
as she cries and flees.

Once
once, there was hope;
gone now that all illusive thing
vanished with him.

They smile
calling her by another's name
as she struggles to find solidity
a familiar face.

Voices,
distantly echoing memories
of laughter and peace
haunt her ears.

There is none
not one she knows here
he is gone and she;
she is going.

Crying
she sits in her own
soiled and shamed
aged and crying.