It's All the Same
by Pramod Lad
It's all the same. Though I seem to remember
In small erratic flying embers
From a fire long dead. Why does the mind hide
What it desperately seeks? No one beside
Me now to prompt, and with patient temper
Remind without reproach things I should never
Have done, or others I should have if clever
Evasions had not interfered. And pride.
It's all the same.
They tell me small, clogged brain vessels hamper
Memory. They assure me kindly you are
Not the culprit. But again, and again I have tried
To recall the face. I feel her beside
Me holding my hand but cannot remember.
It's all the same
In small erratic flying embers
From a fire long dead. Why does the mind hide
What it desperately seeks? No one beside
Me now to prompt, and with patient temper
Remind without reproach things I should never
Have done, or others I should have if clever
Evasions had not interfered. And pride.
It's all the same.
They tell me small, clogged brain vessels hamper
Memory. They assure me kindly you are
Not the culprit. But again, and again I have tried
To recall the face. I feel her beside
Me holding my hand but cannot remember.
It's all the same
Pramod Lad was born in India, educated at King’s College, UK, and received a PhD in biochemistry from Cornell University. He was a scientist at the National Institutes of Health. His poems have been accepted in several poetry journals. The rondeau, “It’s All the Same,” was written after the passing of a family member from Alzheimer’s. Though the reason is not entirely clear, the rondeau seemed appropriate for the subject.