When I was in high school, my AP Literature teacher made each of us memorize a poem to recite in front of the class.
"One day," he explained, "there'll be a moment where a poem just feels right, and how cool will it be when you have one on hand?" To him, being able to recite a poem at the drop of a hat was an essential life skill, like folding laundry or changing a tire.
I duly memorized my poem, and I like to think I did a pretty good job of reciting it. But clearly I didn't take his advice to heart because right now, I can't even remember the poem's name, much less recite it.
He was right—today, I had my poem moment. I was walking home from the grocery store, and while walking down the alley to my door, one of the rabbits froze as I approached. I stopped about ten feet away, both of us looking at each other but not moving for some time. It occurred to me that this rabbit had probably never heard poetry, and I would probably never have a better opportunity to recite poetry to a wild rabbit. But I couldn't remember even a single poem.
I think I'm going to memorize another poem.