Getting Older

One of the things I miss most is my short-term memory. Because my family has a history of dementia, I worry that I will become a burden to my children. This morning was a typical example. I sat by my city pond full of trash and tree debris. A haiku came to me. I really liked it, but I thought I would have to recite it over and over if I were to remember it. I got distracted by a new bird call from a red-winged blackbird and forgot the original ending. By the time I had gone a block, I could not remember the last line. So here is Plan B:

Spring

I am a promise.
Every April I will come to you
on songbirds' wings.