I’ve been stuck on the Alzheimer’s series of poems that came in a rush for two days and then dwindled. I’m glad that the feelings came out, the memories of memory lost. Just sort of fell into it before I realized what was happening and now that I’d like to continue, the moments are there and yet I cannot find the words to let them ride out to freedom.
It’s like crawling back into one’s cave.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology