One by one, she examined the various colors that seemed to enlighten her previously gloomy mood which can’t be modified in another
She is eighty-nine a petite lady whose engine has not expired because she constantly transforms its design off she goes Her destination? Not a clue, only she knows
Ultimately, selecting the bright magenta, this ignited an enthusiasm that glowed and spread over to my agenda
I stroll her to the dining room for lunch; consisted of bland, dull-looking ingredients, never increasing her appetite to munch.
She stared into her glass of water and tiny pill, trying to hide the rough confusion: unaware that a missed dose could make her ill.
She is eight or nine, a petite girl whose engine will never expire because she constantly creates lanes off she strides Her diminution? Not a worry, only she denies
I reassured that the pill was a raindrop, waiting to be immersed into the atmosphere where she can choose any shade to shop.
Staring with those twinkling hazel eyes, notice how she's enthused. Finally she picked up her utensils and ate: delightful epiphany reminded her preferred taste.
May 20th, 2016: In memory of Vera. She was a resident with Alzheimer’s at a retirement community that I volunteered from 7th to 11th grade. Her presence and my time that I gained whenever I visited inspired me to wonder how much she feels endlessly.