“Where Was I?” by Mark McNease

My train of thought
derailed by something so simple
as the movement of a foot.
Where was I?
Telling you again
I would be there through it all.

I meant it.
I felt it.
I defined it in my actions.
Then a woman stood
to get her laptop from the overhead bin
and I was gone. That quickly.

Where was I
sliding into my 50s, aware now
of the signs, looking for slips
of the tongue, forgotten keys.
We must watch for these things
as decades pass and the time
comes round again where I may wonder
where you are.
Mark McNease

L.K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2011

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2 comments

  1. lkthayer · March 7, 2011

    I’m right with you Mark, it is so happening!! Love this sweet poem on how we all slip…by.

  2. Alexis Rhone Fancher · March 7, 2011

    Lovely! And so true…

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