I see her standing strong against the tide

Of fading memories that bring her, still,

Great moments of happiness. Can the ride

Into the future bring her one more thrill?

And one more? And one more? In quiet times

Alone what does she see, what does she think?

Can she find solace in a book of rhymes,

Words from Hunter’s mind, perhaps, or the plink

Of Jerry’s banjo, or the two combined

To make poetry she danced to at night?

Alone with her thoughts, a struggle while her mind

Whirls to music of her own making. Might

She find contentment living in the glow

Of the sweet memories she wants to know.