What is a memory
that cannot be held?
Is there meaning
as my days grow shorter
and my thoughts slip away?
My memory has always been a wreck. I can hear a story and recognize most of the details, but I can’t always remember those details until I hear them. In the past few years, my short-term memory has been getting worse. Of course, I worry about what that means as I get older.
It was a few years back that I got a handle on ADD. Knew it was there. Pretended it wasn’t. Finally admitted it was, as it got worse. Routine is my primary way of compensating for it, but every once in a while I get one of these “spells” – walking in and out of a room so I can figure out why I’m there; skipping a small step in a process like a recipe; switching from a document to a browser to look something up, then going back to the document to (maybe) figure out what it was I needed. That last one has happened a handful of times in the last week. At times, I might as well be looking at a blank screen. It’s been on my mind, so I’m working on a poem to address it. I took a break to try some magnetic poetry. I guess it was still on my mind.
If you want to try magnetic poetry, you can do it online, here.
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