That glimmer that was once there, now is gone.
Some days are good days, others are bad.
The Alzheimer's has control. Then, it seems to have disappeared. You don't understand and you strike at me, seem to realize the reality, and you're sorry, no longer mad. We walk, precious moments, in the park, even though you're winded fast. I look to these times in the dark, when you think it's morning, ready to start anew.