the twelve apostles

she has to leave.

there is no other way around it.

the mind

has slipped,

a cane is needed.

the stove is being left

on, bills

unpaid.

spills are everywhere,

sometimes she wanders

in the night,

but the strings

must be tied,

loose ends connected.

to where

all the money is,

the accounts,

the important documents

that must be signed.

what is the password

for the discovery

of her life?

what words, what numbers

has she typed in before

she says goodnight.

maybe there,

on the nightstand

her magazine

that's titled

the 12 Apostoles. 

why not, let's try.