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 the head

I've gotten used to my Arthritis;
to my dentures I'm resigned
I can manage my bi-focals but,
Oh God, how 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 if I've just come down from there

And before the fridge,
so often my poor  mind is filled with doubt
Have I just put the food away, or,
have I come to take some out

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

So, remember, I do love you and
I wish that you were near
But now's nearly mail-time,
so I must say "good-bye, Dear"

There I stood beside the mailbox,
with a face so very red
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I had opened it instead!!!

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