Too young for Alzheimer's,
too old to have a note on a string around my neck.
I go through the movements of my day slowly,
trying to give time for the errant thought to find it's way back.
Nodding to myself occasionally,
as just a shiny glance of the thought
Flutters into my head
Something I needed to do,
something that was important
And then like the scent of the faintest gardenia,
the thought passes.
I try again.
I move in jerky pauses,
sure that the thought is just out of my grasp
and if I hold still enough it will land like a monarch
Worrying if it's something so important that I'm doomed
If I can't catch it.
The day passes slowly
the thought flitters and never lands.