Like dew

They come unannounced, sometimes more than once a day. Lost thoughts. They move into my head, have good shake, like a wet dog, leaving traces all over the place - don't ask me where - and disappear. Just as easily as they came. Thoughts. Good thoughts. But lost from the moment I have them. For some reason they don't seem to find their way into my memory. They simply slide in, shake themselves up, and slip out.
And for days afterwards I scan my brain to see if I can locate one of those traces. There has to be something there, somewhere. A shining droplet, like dew on my synapses.
There ...