Copyright 2014 by Bob Rogers

Note: I wrote this poem originally as a teenager in 1975, but to this day, I continue to struggle with the same feeling that it expresses.

When I plop wearily into bed

Lights out at the end of the day

I suddenly begin to remember

All of the things I forgot to say

All of the things I forgot to do, too.

The simple reason for my every view

I remembered I had left unsaid

What later popped into my head.

These thoughts come slowly, like

the gradual approach of a far-off light.

And they always manage to come to me

in the midst of the night.

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