Lost (JG)

My hands are lost, the fingers gone, 

the music they doodle lost. 

A morning like every morning.


I’m waiting here 

at the kitchen table

for the faces I’ve forgotten,

the voices I’ve forgotten, 

the words they said forgotten.


Was it always this way? 

Was my silence full of questions? 

My eyes seeing nothing, 

wondering at nothing? 


I look out the window 

see darkness in the grey clouds, 

shadows in the snow.

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