Just a line to say I love you, and that I think you’re great.
Last month you had a birthday, and I know this card is late.
I know you probably think that I’m among the dead,
But I’m just getting old and mixed up in the head.

I went to church last Tuesday, I felt like such a fool.
I sat there in the parking lot, all dressed for Sunday School.
Sometimes upon the stairs, I stand with coffee cup,
Now was I going down, or was I coming up?

And heading for the kitchen, I walk with vacant stare.
Will I remember why I’m going, upon arriving there?
I went to use the oven and opened up the door,
Inside I found the ice-trays I’d left the day before.

And when I’m at the fridge, I’m often filled with doubt,
Had I just put food in, or had I come to take some out?
In youth I had a memory and promptness was a trait.
But now I’m going to tell you just why your card is late.

My neighbor brought my mail in and put it on the shelf.
And there I found your letter; I’d addressed it to myself.
I want to mail it out again, to waste the card’s a shame.
I’d put it in the mail right now, if I could just recall your name!

I had a good introduction for this poem but I forgot what it was.

In any case, don’t laugh at us older folks. With a few more years of experience, you will become one of us. Look forward to it!