Between compos mentis and dementia, between memory and life, between the past and the present,
Falls the shadow.
A Neverland of possibility.
Nothing to undo. Nothing to be done.
In this shadow space lurks awareness, knowledge of history, hope for the future.
Let that bridge remain, steady and true, linking what was to what will be.
But if age clouds memory, if the Beloved become strangers, let the bridge fail first,
That I may not know that I don’t know.