A Poem by John Grey
A stranger stops me in the street,
says, “Don’t I know you?”
My brain prints out a quick statement from my memory bank.
No, he’s not listed there.
ll don’t think so,” I reply, and walk on.
A block away, I turn to see him just standing there,
scratching his head.
But what if he’s right and I’m wrong?
What if he can place me somewhere I was
and I can’t?
He walks on with something of me he can’t quite focus.
I head toward home with everything but that one time.