the slayer of minds

The Slayer of Minds

Shocking to see how old she had become
uncombed hair, no make up on, dirty nails
as she had been digging her own grave with
bare hands. I didn’t know what to say,
stroked her cheek, didn’t care to kiss her
grey, unwashed skin, felt like scolding her
letting herself go like that!
My twin sister, wondered how I looked,
living alone I didn’t really know, but I did
shower daily and kept my fingernails clean.
Alzheimer, this cruel disease, robs the afflicted
of dignity; I had come to take her home, look
after her till she was an empty shell, then
next step, the nursing home