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Today she forgot my name,

The woman that could make tears from words.

As long as I could remember she had been the same,

Sturdy and strong, tuned into the world.

She sits atop the large family tree,

Yet never forgot a detail of me.

Why today, why now, how come?

She would fail to recognize me of everyone.

In realization, I curse my greed.

How could my foremost concern be my need?

For there were many names she spoke long before

She ever uttered my name in this world.

Today she forgot my name, but now I accept

The name that she could not speak, in her heart is kept.

Ted R. Clark

MSI

Second Place, Poetry