For but a moment
Memory’s time
Falls short,
With fleeting line
Of thought,
You so arrive
With memory blind,
Irksomely lost
What you’d meant find
Now plumb forgot,
Thus you turn round
Back to intent design
Wants recall bound,
The wile held moment lost
Did cause a memory block!
Poetry on a canapé 
Now, one could certainly read dementia or even aging or perhaps zen, enlightenment, one without thought. Couldn’t resist. But, it is familiar, if I’m remembering correctly, lol. 🙂
Good one Paulette. The short version is… the two worst things about aging are; one, is memory, and two, I can’t remember.
This Memory Block poem was inspired by my getting up to go to the next room to retrieve something, and once there forgetting what I’d come for. Then going back to that room to remember what it was, which I do. And it works every time. It’s like forgetting to bring your memory bag with you, and going back for it because it has what you wanted in the first place. People do silly things, and this is one of my many. Jean-Jacques
This poem is very easy to grasp when you are at that certain age of memory.
I like the idea of the memory bag!
Thank you for that…I like the gentle ease with which you express the process of aging, ‘that certain age’. Nice touch. Although I must admit, I’ve been using that trick, way back to when I was in my early thirties, as in going back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, to remember what had slipped my mind. Ah memory, the fickle finger of man’s mind. Too often the things you want to remember you don’t, and those you’d like to forget you can’t. Jean-Jacques