Knock-Knock

Knock-Knock

A memory knocked

on   my   door    last

night.   She  pushed

her way in  before I

had    a    chance   to

send    her    on   her

way.   She  looked  a

little like  you   used

to   and   asked   me

“how’ve you  been?”

The question caught

me       0ff       guard,

having failed to take

inventory  for  some

time.      I  consulted

with my regrets and

sent a text to several

days  gone by,   but I

couldn’t  for  the  life

of   me    figure   out

why it would matter

to a  lonely  memory

seeking shelter from

the     heat     of      a

summer's     evening.

SMG