One of the best of minds destroyed by dementia
does not howl on her knees in the street, does not masturbate
in the magnolia living-room, is not dragged off the roof-top,
naked; no, she leaves a message on her daughter's answer-phone
saying: there's an echo, an echo in my head.
Olive M. Ritch is currently completing a PhD in creative writing (on the theme of memory) at the University of Aberdeen. This poem is from The Hippocrates Prize 2011, published by The Hippocrates Prize in association with Top Edge Press. ©Olive M. Ritch.
Chosen by Femi Oyebode.
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