downing the memories / alzheimer’s anonymous
By Emily Forslof
Your name has slipped my mind—
it went walking the other day, I saw it wandering in
pig-tailed girls with your giggle on their chapped lips. Are you
that creak in the wind? Your name,
it went walking the other day, I saw it wandering in…
…Oh, you—the trill in a Barefoot bottle,
that creak in the wind, your name
whispers through cattails. Remind me of your name again,
oh, granddaughter—the trill in a Barefoot bottle,
it rings a bell, it’s the toll I pay for forgetting that
whispers through cattails remind me of your name. Again,
the bottle’s empty, and nestled against the others
it rings a bell, it’s the toll I pay for forgetting that
pig-tailed girls with your giggle on their chapped lips are you.
The bottle’s empty, and nestled against the others,
your name has slipped my mind.