Random Thinking
Three or four times a day I accidentally think about things.
I lie. Maybe a hundred times a day my ideas are accidental.
Things creep randomly into my mind, a memory of a dressing room.
A feeling that I am being watched by a snake, a smell of lemon for no reason.
Some of the blips and glimpses seem incredibly far-fetched.
They are from the Twilight Zone; unbidden, but totally here now.
Some of the glimpses I receive of totally unmemorable times.
Yesterday I thought of a person I had not seen in fifty years.
She is not a neighbor, a relative or a friend.
She was a classmate I rarely spoke to, for she was shy.
Her obituary was in the newspaper this morning.
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