do you play on the moon now
dad - it was always your dream
before the alzheimers stepped in
then you didn't know me
but we still fought a good
fight: your wife forgotten
confused with me at times
your sons lost in time - was
he joe, stan or the other
it did not really matter not
anymore - food and breath
that was what you were left
with and hair, flowing white
hair and when combed you
once again could play on the
moon
