Meet a friend of mine

I mumbled at the introduction then
forgot her name. Forgot her name — a friend
of twenty years and more. It wasn’t just
a passing thing it didn’t slip my mind
it left me there and stayed away. She must
have covered for me. I remember
staring at my sherry glass recalling
that this had happened twice this week and I
remembered, too, that article I’d read,
when was it? Yesterday? I think it said
we lost things in a certain sequence when
cells shrivel and cease firing. Peoples names
go first and fastest, places next and then —