Brain fog, post-Covid
Slippery fish swimming in and out
Just out of reach when you grab at them.
Use your net you might get some back when you go fishing for your thoughts.
Words suddenly disappear, familiar ones suddenly out of reach.
What’s that thing called again, the one when you do this, and that and get a result?
Songs you know suddenly have missing bits,
Thank God for google and sound hound.
You feel unsure, was that the right term?
Your language once fluent now sometimes feels foreign,
Like a second or third language.
Haltingly, slowly pronounce those words as you think about what you really mean to say.
Your tongue is heavy, your expression drab as you stifle yet another yawn.
Worse is when you muddle words and don’t realise, until your laughing teenage son sets you right.
Brain fog, like baby brain or just overtired? Some invisible process in your physiology?
Embarrassment aside, here’s your sole preoccupation,
You hope it doesn’t get you in trouble at work.
“I look up to the hills. But where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord. He made heaven and earth.”
Psalms 121:1-2 ICB
unfetteredconviction 
I sympathise. Your poem is really good I love it. x
________________________________
LikeLiked by 1 person