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.