She was 99

In the mornings 

when strangers 

bring the newspaper 

I  look for you in it

Before noons 

when the milkman 

drops the bottles infront 

of the door

I ask him

have he saw you

somewhere

In the evenings 

when the 

they bathe me 

and when I no longer

remember the day which have passed

I stay hours in the cold water 

waiting for you.

In the nights 

when the light goes off

and when I close my eyes

I call your real name.

A life has passed-

wars, births, deaths,

even tsunamis and earthquakes-

they say

-and I don't remember a thing

-and I don't believe them a thing 

I have one memory 

only

one single thing to call it
Real

My True North 

My Constant 

in the chaos of the variables

a ray of Light
in the age of darkness of the day

I have only You,
You,

till tomorrow morning- 

when the newspapers delete you

the milk erase you in white

the water washes you out from my memory-

I have You till tomorrow morning.