A Poem a Day (210): Forgotten words

Dedicated to Bob. He passed away in the night before I wrote this, and I didn’t know til later in the day yesterday. This poem is not about us or anyone in particular, but it’s about the illness he suffered from. He was a lovely man, funny and supportive. (July 15)

Forgotten words

I forget where we are sometimes.

I suppose it’s a small spill of surprise,

This slow drawn-out ebb into forgetting,

Which everyone tells you of in whispers.

I guess this is the ‘show’ and not the ‘tell’,

But I digress in reading your disappointment.

You haven’t reached the point of knowing

What it is to forget your familiar words,

Those you held ready for conversationing.

We will take a vacation into emptying silence

And I will mime everything across the table.

We’ll create our own indifferent language,

So it won’t matter if we forget a line or two.

But if we forget ourselves, what can we do?

We’ll recreate anew and mime ourselves too,

And be two other people who sensed they were us. 

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 14, 2020