"This morning," he said, "in this showery weather,
I forgot my..." Strange, he thought, how the words
suddenly unhappen, losing themselves in the wondering.
How desipient I must seem to them, to my friends.
"But," he went on, "as confused as I am this moment,
I do believe that one of the blessings of friends
is that you can afford to be stupid with them.
What I am trying to say, to remember once again,
is that this morning, in this showery weather, I forgot
the device you hold over your head when it is raining."
If you have any comments on this poem, J. D. Heskin would be
pleased to hear from you.