A Littered Mind

My Messy Desk

not my messy desk–but close enough (Photo credit: born1945)

Day 5 of Poetry Month reveals a truth:

A Littered Mind

My desk is littered with scraps of paper

Scribbled notes, phone numbers

Reminders of things I do not want to


But sometimes I cannot remember whole blocks

of time……………

Where did they go?

Are they in the recesses of my mind

At a depth  only an archaeological dig can extract ~

Or are they gone forever?

Sometimes people will tell me that I have been


And done


that I do not remember.

So now I keep scraps of paper

that litter my desk

in a valiant attempt not to forget.

I know it will not work.