Here are some things that I’ve forgotten:
the formula for pi
the recipe for chocolate chip cookies
the capital of Minnesota (perhaps I never knew, or cared)
the middle name of Paul McCartney
the way it felt to come down and stop and wait and hope my heart
would seize
in the split second that rested between my fingers hitting the door latch
and starting to pull
the smell of paper in the fire
how to take a word and lay it down
stack them, rushed and messy
fan them out like cards and give them voice
that hits your ears and fills your head
like rain that begs
to someday
be the flood.