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.