In My Head
There is the place where it is
all locked away.
Can I get it out when I need it?
I will just smile and nod.
Sometimes a fog of other conversations
block the path.
In my head today, it all makes
perfect sense.
tomorrow
or an hour from now
are questionable.
Is this how it started for Pearl?
Those hands could recall the rhythm
of biscuit-making
even when her mind could not.
What rituals will my body hold on to
when my mind betrays itself?
Memories locked in my head
of the days of summer and
biscuit-making.
The familiar smell of books
that I love
Long forgotten like the smiles of
two blonde children
Whom I adored.
3 thoughts on "In My Head"
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“What rituals will my body hold on to
when my mind betrays itself?” is great!
I ask that question all the time. Thanks for exploring it in your poetry.
Somber and introspective — nicely done. And I also adore the line Austen pointed out.