Things keep disappearing from my home.

There’s mystery hidden in the drawer.

What with certainty can we know?

Spoons once stacked here seem to have roamed.

Now we’re down to only four.

Things keep disappearing from my home.

My ring is missing a precious stone.

Life used to offer so much more.

What with certainty can we know?

My most vivid memories are fading in tone.

How will I ever know truth for sure?

Things keep disappearing from my home.

Loved ones leave us for the great unknown.

What next comes knocking at our door?

What with certainty can we know?

At the end we are all alone.

Then what guidance can I implore?

Things keep disappearing from my home.

One thing with certainty can be known.

Ellen Pickus is a retired teacher of English and creative writing; she lives on Long Island.  Before March of 2020, she volunteered at a local elementary school and at a senior center, where she led a creative writing workshop. She uses her poetry to raise money to fight Alzheimer’s disease.