she paced the house again last night from the kitchen table I could feel her fright I can stop it and remind her, "you're at it again" but she'd forget in a hour and start over at 10:00 I've read her this poem a thousand times like a curse and each time with a new blank stares she'd swear its the first and little reminders I'd leave inside her purse like "I love you" or "I miss you" life's memories in reverse