Sometimes
when I dial a phone number
by the time someone answers
I forget who it was I was calling
Sometimes
when I write a note to myself
to answer a call or a letter
I forget where I put it
Sometimes
when I leave the house
I forget whether I left the lights on
or turned the stove off
Sometimes
I have to check if my toothbrush is wet
to know whether I had already
brushed my teeth that morning
Sometimes
on my way home
I drive right by my house
and only notice it a few blocks later
Sometimes
I forget whether I meant to say something
or whether I have already said it
But often
I remember the kind words
the sweet smells
sunlit days
a tender touch
a book I loved
music, a picture
a special event
I guess I remember more than I forget
