My Meandering Mississippi
By Jerry Harris

The meandering Mississippi of my mind,
Flows southward, carrying with it,
A name of the person
My wife lunched with yesterday.
A small matter, to be sure.

My family keeps track of such things,
Perhaps posting them on a notepad somewhere,
Along with emergency numbers, grocery lists,
The date of my sister-in-law’s birthday party.
(Need I wear a suit?)

Whatever personal flotsam,
Has collected along the way,
It sails offshore from Natchez, Hannibal,
And Cape Girardeau,
Along with yachts, barges and dinghies.
(Perhaps my 2011 calendar will be found,
Inside a catfish filled with Chicago detritus.)

Are alarm bells ringing, or is it just a bother.
Folks say, “Oh, it happens to all of us.”
Shall I take up bridge?
Join the chess group in the park,
Do cross word puzzles or sudoku?

If it happens to all of us,
Then apologies to you.
These lines may lack gravitas,
Not to worry,

They sail for New Orleans in the morning.

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