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Walking down a crowded street
With music plugging her ears,
Distracted by designer stores and foreign males,
She Forgets. She listens, but she does not hear.
Above her; laundry droops, birds sail, suns hiss.
Around her; vespas play, vendors sell, people move.
She wouldn't know it, though.
She Forgets. She looks, but she does not see.
She continues to Forget until it dies.
The loud ringing that quakes the town hourly
gives her the opportunity to be glad it died,
And she Remembers to Remember,
That she cannot allow herself to Forget
Where she is, what she is doing, what they are speaking...
She tells herself to Remember to thank it for dying.
She throws her gum in the trash
and smiles at a man in a trench coat,
Moving,
Walking,
Singing,
Feeling.
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Writer Profile
Lynne Lessard
Hi! My name is Lynne and I live in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. I'm an undergrad at the University of Ottawa, where I am studying International Development and Global Studies, and Arabic Language and Culture.
I enjoy writing poetry, music and short essays. I hope you enjoy my pieces, and would love to hear from you! :)
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