A CARROT IN THE TOASTER

I’ll put a carrot in the toaster,
a pot of face cream in my shoe.

Anything will do
as long as it is out of place;
a silent clue what I must do
to see me through
this ‘clean forgotten’ phase.

A handkerchief, tied in a knot,
once helped a lot.
A different issue, is a tissue.

A diary to rely on,
is the answer, if I choose it,
but then, I’d only lose it.

I will create a memory-mate.

Not a lot of people boast a
carrot in the toaster.

© Marion Sharville

About Marion Sharville

A website of Poems and Short stories
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