Losing My Words

I wrote this because of something that happened to me this morning.  I suspect, based on the current state of my head, that I am pre-migraine.  It might just be the good old Topamax.  This happens to me a lot, though.  The names of things go wandering.  It is more frustrating than I can tell you as a person who lives in and loves language and words.  At times, it is highly embarrassing.  Imagine looking at someone you have known a long time and not being able, literally not being able, to call that person's name.  This is my world.  

Losing My Words

I am standing in the kitchen
with this bright red not-a-spatula in my hand
spreading the last of the Nutella
on the last of the wheat bread

My mind frantically digs and scrapes
like this nameless flexible rubber tool
trying to get into the edges
and find that which has been left behind

But the word I need, the name has gone
ducked into dark corners
like a child playing hide-and-seek
at an inopportune moment

It will reappear long after
my need for it is done
shout “Here I am!”
smile appealingly and try to crawl into my lap in apology

But for now, I’m left searching
muttering dark incantations
 to force meaning to object
“Does it start with an F?”

Meanwhile, my hands, undaunted and serene
continue their confident labor
having lost no part of their skill and function
because the thing they use is currently anonymous