Lost

A man walks down the street 

with a child on his shoulders

big pink coat bopping

up and down 

A hat drops 

and I think 

how easily things 

can be lost

Through my side mirror

I see him stop 

turn and pick it up

Found

In my dreams 

woman after woman 

bring me a man’s red flip flops

as if offering him back to me

The pain of loss permeates 

these dreams

I study these women’s hands

and wonder

Have they touched his face, 

his hair, 

the back of his neck?

Have they clasped his hand

in theirs, have they felt him 

fall?

I turn to look behind me

and do not bend 

to pick up the pieces

Lost 

Published on September 1st, 2022