Just a line to say I'm living
that I'm not among the dead,
Though I'm getting more forgetful
and mixed up in my head.

I got used to my arthritis
to my dentures I'm resigned,
I can manage my bifocals
but God, I miss my mind.

For sometimes I can't remember
when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something
or have I just come down from there?

And before the fridge 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 a time when it is dark
with my nightcap on my head,
I don't know if I'm retiring, or
just getting out of bed.

So, if it's my turn to write you
there's no need for getting sore,
I may think I have written
and don't want to be a bore.

So, remember that I love you
and wish that you were near,
But now it's nearly mail time
So must say goodby, dear.

There I stand beside the mail box
with a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter
I opened it instead.

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