Dancing in Memories: Seeping Away In The House On The Hill

Miss Tell me your street address
And I’ll point you to your home.
The street lamp flickering beneath
Where they stood.
The alley ways filling up with
Their night time doomed visions.
The lady over eighty just sat
Looking at the street signs; where she
Couldn't remember the name anymore.
Jazz singers from one street played
Music in the ladies ears.
She felt the beat, with each tear
That fell to her feet.
The same tune she heard once
Before when her children were near.
Leaving her alone in her new house
On top of the hill.

I can imagine it, Miss. The tune in my ear.
Thinking everyone is crazy, those
Night time doomley visions you must see.
The lady just stood there her tears now gone.
She stood and twirled around.
Music gliding over the few trees
Dancing upon the street lights
Fluttering with memories.
The lady starts mumbling some words.
Something must have jogged her memory.
It was a brisk feeling of November
Numbing her finger tips as she twirled
And danced upon the street.
Watching the lights dance like tiny stars
Twinkling in a clear sky.
She sits down forgetting the rest.

A man walks up to her wearing only white.
He must be here to help me, she thought.
On, this cold crisp November Night.
I lay back on a narrow hard bed.
As he hands me a blanket,
"You must be cold with the window open
like this Elizabeth."
Yet, the music was still playing tiny memories for me.
Even as he spoke.
He closes the window where bars are placed over them.
Straps me in bed and turns the radio that beats
In my ear off, for the night.

I don’t understand what’s going on mister?
Where am I?

My own version of: MUSIC SWIMS BACK TO ME
By: Anne Sexton.

This happens to be my favorite poem, I can relate to this poem because my grandmother has Alzheimer', we use to sing American Pie together. Then as soon as we started her words to humming then the humming stopped...She asked What was she just doing, or Where am I.....