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I try to relate to a time in life that even though our loved ones seemed to be lost in another world, it may not be that bad.

QUIET SHADOWS © The pencil moves and words appear to race across the page. They flow with meek simplicity, not showing all their rage. In haste I rush to script my thoughts before they fade away; As they last a fragile moment, and won’t let me replay. I feel such anger deep within each time I cannot find, The little things I know so well, that hide back in my mind. A name will sound familiar though I can’t attach the face. From a memory quite impressive, there remains but just a trace. Question after question all put me on the spot. The simple dates of birthdays are answers I forgot. Who knew my life would come to this where I cannot recall; The things we did a year ago, last spring and now this fall. I know real soon the family will all become obscure. I’m scared of my tomorrows and if I can endure. Will you be there (although some days) I’m not sure who you are? Can we survive this dreadful thing, or does it go too far? When time has blurred my vision, and replies come very slow, As I sit without emotion, with thoughts that may not show; Please know behind that lost blank stare my mind is running free. In a quiet conversation, with my best friend God, and me. Don Balsley