Tuesday, May 1, 2012


        Your face, my friend, is plain as day to me;
        Your name, however, stays a mystery,
        A name I know, and yet cannot recall,
        Hidden behind a mental screen or wall
        Or sunken in a pool and slow to rise,
        Which only in due time I’ll recognize,
        Not soon enough to miss embarrassment
        Except when, in the nick, it’s heaven sent.