You, Today by Anna Kingston

You, Today

“How much again?” you ask me, pen poised.

“£10.20,” I say distracted by noise.

“What’s the date, did you say?”, still sounding like you.

“10th of May, I believe.” It’s me who’s confused.

You ask me the figures and date yet again

Not even writing the cheque, and then

I really do look, and see you anew - 

You’re definitely altered - are you still you?

The woman we loved, and thought that we knew 

Is slowly dissolving, like smoke up a flue:

Miniscule changes: the outside’s the same

But now you’ve forgotten your own grandson’s name.

Your smile doesn’t change, nor your deep love of cake;

But these changes are cruel, they make my heart ache

For the mum I remember, who taught me to cook,

Who taught me there’s nothing so good as a book.

Close my heart to the past, my eyes to next week,

I’m with you today. I won’t try to seek

The mum I remember, the woman I knew:

We’re together today and, for now, you’re still you.