A Fading Band

by Clair Scott

Memories illegible
whitewashed and weather–
bleached by time’s relentless tick

My caregiver Talia or Trisha or Trixie
says we need you to be clean
as she scrubs between my low slung breasts

Lying like parched fruits across my stomach
and I inhale the intimate agony
of her flowery perfume

My neurons are plotting against me
staging a mutiny after eighty years
synapses short circuiting, misfiring

They used to be on my side
synchronized like a marching band
lined up like migrating swallows

But now Tyler or Tracy or Trina
says it is time for our supper
as she tucks a napkin under my chin

To catch our spills she says
no interest in her watery soup or tasteless stews
but Tessa or Tara is my only friend

Unless you count the figure waiting in the wings
wearing a sable suit and a sinister smile
knowing his turn is coming next

So we break open a bottle of our best wine
while we watch swallows flying low
and listen to the wobbly notes of a fading band