On a fine warm day,
the last date you remember-
hints of December 8, 2019.
You take a second to soak
in the summery scenery.
The rich green grass
beneath a picnic table.
You find yourself seated
in a park with
unfamiliar company.
They sound familiar with you,
you unrest an oddity
of what should be-
December 9.
An immense sadness,
an immediate panic
enters your blood
and travels intense, through.
A sudden understanding of
what's happened once before.
You ask around the table
with a furrow in your brow.
You realize you don't know
where you're at,
or who you're sitting with.
You speak a sudden,
"What year is it?
What's today's date?"
They stop their chatter,
their laughter,
their banter,
look with concern,
look with no answer.
Try to check your phone,
but there's no phone in sight.
Panic again.
Search for your spouse.
No answer must mean,
a thought occurs to you;
Even they aren't aware
of the time or the day,
or what's happened to me.
It's all such a mystery.
You arise, frantic, from the table
in search of someone,
anyone who knows.
Asking the year, time, date.
No one seems coherent enough to know.
A sudden epiphany,
and you know to search
for a white coat to question.
