Sometimes I forget.
I will see a man with a gray beard
driving a blue car
and for a moment, I forget that he is dead.
Then I remember he is
and my heart sinks
like pennies do
when tossed into the wishing well
in the middle of a shopping mall.
I remember when my sister and I
ran to the fountain.
Little sneakers worn from play
slid like wet lips over the cold polished floor
and when her head hit the rail
her coin fell from her hand.
As he scooped her up and carried her away,
she cried over his shoulder,
begging me to find her lost wish.
But I still crawl, looking.
ANGIE CURNEAL PALSAK co-edits Ugly Cousin (an online journal for those who consider themselves “literary rejects”) and posts weekly on her blog about trying to balance “real” life and time for writing and art at angiecpalsak.blogspot.com .