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Lost Objects
two poems LOST OBJECTS Things disappear. The ball that flew Over the fence and caught in space The ring, dropped unnoticed out of view Even the strongbox fastened in place. : Things rove while you are gone; they change. A pair should not be reckoned two, So common that it is not strange: One glove, one lover, half, one shoe. To know the ache of the intensely lost Think her yours who was her own Slipped off without goodnight, poor guest. Even a statue shifts in its stone. Motion holds all, the tumblers turn Through new gyrations in their airy shells And shunt within till we become Lost pieces of ourselves.