How soon I forget
the reason I walked into this room.
It is not hard
to walk back to where I was
moments before
and usually I remember.
Sometimes I forget
the reason I am here,
and I do not know where
to go back to, wherever
we came from,
to retrieve the purpose,
though sometimes
when I sit very still
it arrives, not as an answer,
not as a word, more
as a sense that I am being breathed
and that I have not
travelled so far,
that whatever I have come here for
is right here.