Sunday Poem: Forgetting

In Honor of My Mother’s Birthday

My mom would’ve been 85 this coming Tuesday. We lost her more than two years ago to Alzheimer’s.

Sometimes, all it takes
is the smell of coffee
and the popping noise
of water boiling
and trickling through the grinds

All it takes
is a song, maybe
John Denver’s tenor
from the speakers or that live
Neil Diamond record you’d play
Elvis was your favorite but
almost any song would do

Drinking black coffee
with your radio on
or one of the cop shows
you liked.

Small memories
captured in flashes
but you lost those before
we lost you

And that was the hardest thing