I don't know when you left me
I don't know where we were
when you zipped out of my skull,
but come back.
Please, come back.
This morning I got up from bed
took a shower and put on
two different socks
started to put on my wife's boots
(a little tight, that's what gave it away)
and went out the door
withOUT my keys,
without my backpack,
without my lunch,
without getting my morning coffee.
That's just a little thing.
But what about the time last week
when I got up and went home
only to remember, halfway home,
that I was supposed to meet someone,
20 minutes earlier.
Or a couple of nights ago,
when I woke up in the middle of the night,
cold sweat time,
and wondered whether I had double checked
that story, made sure the reporter
had all the documents to support it