The Lady Without a Memory

The lady with gray hair
Seats in front of me
In a humble table
We eat our ice cream
While her beautiful
Blue eyes scans
This place for familiar
Faces...
There are none
Except me...
For a strange reason
Beyond my comprehension
She remembers who I am.
She likes to seat here
And do people watching...
Perhaps she looks for a link
Some clue of who she is
Or where she comes from...
She smiles at me grateful
For this friendship that allows her to hang up unto some
Memories....even if so small
At times I see on her eyes
A bit of dissapointment
When she looks at people
And they don't look back
Perhaps - she thinks - they have forgotten me...