When do you know it's gone?
Or does asking the question supply the answer?
Starting a sentence, fearing a word
Will not come upon command.
Reaching for a sound,
Anxious, lest your pronunciation
Reinforce a growing belief
That you’ll inherit Grandma's blank stare.
Someone will finish your thought
While you fight to retain its integrity,
Feeling relief when that someone
Fills in your blank.
No, that will not be the worst.
Don't you remember
Your impatience when that
Old uncle could not stay here and now?
Until you are long past
Constructing a universe that accords
With one that a 20 year old can visit,
I suggest fighting for a better ending.
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