POEMS OF MY GRANDMA WITH DEMENTIA #16/ Colony Home

The lonely patio in silence

The large house, old,

of old yards

of cold marble

and color of tiles.

There are no more water in their founts,

nor the sun shines in their skies.

The are no more distant murmurs,

that talk about fresh spaces

in the golden morning

and afternoon stars.

The time has passed,

the clouds remain

entangled in their tracts...

The dust covered everything,

even its air of mystery.