Against Forgetting ~<\/p>\n
It might have been the car\u2019s fault<\/em>, she told me It might have been bad luck, of course: Days soon became nameless, as faces lost And now, like a softly ticking bomb, Against Forgetting ~ It might have been the car\u2019s fault, she told me this when she lost her way home. Or possibly I gave her the wrong directions. To the house we shared?? Perhaps the names of plants she once knew like those of her…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":68,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-51812","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51812","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/68"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=51812"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51812\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":54134,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/51812\/revisions\/54134"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=51812"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=51812"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=51812"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nthis when she lost her way home.
\nOr possibly I gave her the wrong directions.
\nTo the house we shared??<\/em>
\nPerhaps the names of plants she once knew
\nlike those of her four daughters
\nwhom she would lose as well<\/em>
\nshook loose with overuse.
\nNever mind<\/em>, I reassured her, it\u2019s all okay.<\/em>
\nBut it wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
\nthe kind that seems so much worse befalling
\nthose we love. I knocked on all the woods
\nI saw, and looked for four-leaf clovers.
\nIt didn\u2019t help.
\nNothing did, certainly not time.<\/p>\n
\ncontext. The names she thought she knew
\nso well faded into then<\/em>. And even though
\nI was against all forgetting, my name
\ntoo slipped through the cracks within her.
\nUntil all that remained were the cracks
\nalmost smooth from finger tracing.
\nA writing that might yet make sense.
\nExcept it never did.<\/p>\n
\nI am still. Against forgetting.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"