An Unregained
I'm not remembering her;
chancing to meet.
we greet
synchronizing expressions
trying to collect
memory bits from the past
as to place
and circumstance.
The Universe between
the Not-Remembered and the Half-Forgotten,
is not joy, not pain,
not past, not present;
this is a small-talk world;
agenda-less.
We talk-
minutes going on-
both hoping
for memory to lurch
to the surface from our past
to penetrate to consciousness.
She, is someone I should know;
an old girl-friend or lover-foe?
Someone who loved me;
perhaps someone I had harmed?
Fumbling, I feint memory
hoping she’ll reveal who
I am
to her
and what had been
between she and I
and our last remembrances.
But she's neutral, not revealing much-
My blank stare frozen; still;
barriered from my own past.
I'm bereft
of attitude or anchoring,
and step away from this personal void;
memorylessness weakens me;
My tree has no branches.
But I see she knows now;
and I don't;
she in that instant
hides my own past from me
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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