Poetry

Chilanga photo

By

David F. Shultz

Forgot a Little Thing

Hot

-I forgot-

long summer days at the office

make

my mistakes

and forgetfulness so easy

to

relate to.

The end of the day. What was it

I

forgot? My

door unlocked or my mail un-

sent

or my rent

unpaid? Or some other little

thing?

Wedding ring

still on my finger, car in the

lot

parking spot

where I left it, so I turn the

key

and I see

through the glass the quiet infant

in the hot

backseat,

the little thing

that I forgot.

momentum

send a text

try to steer

take the next

exit here

didn’t think

sudden veer

spilled my drink

coffee stain

signal blink

stop for train

MP3

changing lanes

tap my knee

traffic sign

scented tree

dotted line

turn the wheel

high beam shine

chrome and teal

try to pass

rubber squeal

mud and grass

heavy thud

shattered glass

and blood.

David F. Shultz

David F. Shultz writes from Toronto, ON, where he also works as a teacher. His work is featured or forthcoming in publications such as The Lovecraft eZine, 49th Parallels, Poetry Quarterly, Polar Borealis, Dreams and Nightmares, The Literary Hatchet, and Star*Line, among others. Author webpage: https://davidfshultz.com