Where Lost Things Go
From a distance,
It seems sudden.
In close up,
Not so much.
It's the things
You hardly notice.
Keys. Pillows on a bed.
A date passed by
To wherever lost things go.
Tell me, does it trouble?
Must you run
To keep ahead?
Instead, I watch your peaceful sleep,
With arms crossed on your chest,
And, "Lost?" I think.
Not lost, no. Not really.
Just gone where lost things go.
I can only be lost if I have a destination I have no idea where it is, not if I am where I belong at any given moment in time.
ReplyDeleteLost to the rest of us, though?
DeleteDepends on if "us" chooses to walk with me or take another path, if the latter then yes, for a time at least Karen.
DeleteBut i am unsure of my destination.
ReplyDeleteNot even sure if i'm in control of it, or just driftwood on the current.
But running and running doesn't seem to help. Maybe there's a place between los n found
Rick
Somewhere Between the Lost and Found. Good book title!
DeleteThere's a lot to be said for going with the flow, but what about those on the bank?
The Gift
ReplyDeleteWith my crossed eyes closed
in the pretense of rem sleep,
eyelids vibrating,
I catch my inhale
and moan and sigh a little,
letting my leg twitch
offering to you
the chance to wonder
what my distant dream might be,
if it is of you.
Thank you kindly, sir, for the gift.
DeleteThere & not really there - it's got to be one of the hardest things to experience - for the sleeper and the watcher..
ReplyDeleteFor both, Bug. It is.
DeleteThose on the bank are just resting, contemplating the drift they just passed through
ReplyDeleteRick
I saw your letter today! It's nice that you took the time to be complimentary. Not many in or of the media get that often. <3 WV!
ReplyDelete