For Someone's Grandmother

by William Schroeder

I am a stranger in a glass parade.

The mirror never looks the same.

Shadows that once looked like me,

March pass in a peculiar way.

So many little pills to take each day.

Oh, how they always go astray.

I cannot say for certain they work,

But I take them all anyway.

What if once, I missed a dose,

Forgot the oven, forgot the roast.

I'd likely be sent away some place,

Where I'm not allowed to fix my toast

My family, and all my neighbors too,

Bring me puzzles and games to do.

But I don't know where I put them.

Now they're lost, just like my shoes.

I am a stranger in a glass parade,

Wishing I could keep the fog at bay.

If only for a minute or two,

I'd call that stranger's face by name.

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