I am slowly going blind.
I may, with luck, never get there
if saying that has not already jinxed me.
Going blind as you age
is rather fitting in a strange way
for as the memory slips and people
fade from its corners
and alcoves, when I can no
longer see them they are also gone.
So if, one day, I see you
and do not acknowledge you
please write it off to my failing sight
or my failing memory,
even though it is possible I just
did not care enough to remember you.