It whispers –

But not quite audible

A breath of something

At the back of your mind

A shadow of an image

Just out of focus

It catches at your awareness

At the edge of attention

It matters

It was something you felt

It was important

But you’ve lost the key

To that door

And you push at the panel

And jiggle the knob

A color you remember

A room

Someone speaking

Fragments that come together

Then part and fade away

Not forgotten, not remembered

That door knows your hand

But will not open with your push

And the day keeps moving

Cleaning, the radio plays a soft song

And there it is again

Like an old familiar fragrance

You pause, mid task

Close your eyes — you hover there

Waiting

In the shadowed garden of your mind

For the missing note

By Diane E. Dockum
©April 7, 2026