I’m Losing My Coats
Actually the first one was a scarf
a thick soft burgundy one
forgotten on the coat hook of a bathroom stall
in an outlet mall outside New River
in what had once been
a perfectly good desert
on the way to see my Dad in Tucson
before all his nouns were gone
and everything became
and a that.
It was a month before I remembered
that I forgot it.
I think about it more now
than when I had it.
Shall I comment on this? Generally poets let a poem speak for itself, except when the poet is on a speaking tour. Is my blog "me" on tour, so to speak? I kind of like that idea. But I'm going to assume that this poem speaks for itself anyway. According to my computer, I wrote this on September 19, 2014, over six years ago. Shall I say that I've forgotten that I was losing a bit of my memory that long ago? I do remember the names of all my college English professors who launched my adventures in reading and writing poetry, but I'm writing more notes to myself to help me remember various household to-do's and sundry social upcoming social events.
I haven't actually lost some coats...I just think about it more than I'd like.