July 11, 2013 § Leave a comment

For Bridget and Duncan

Little sandy hands find

perfect pink seashells

and plunge into stream depths

for minnow.

Our hands break stones

to wear forever

so we will never forget

the search.

A lighthouse seeks

shadowed bobbing ships

but can only find

white crust waves.

Empty bellies look for

more than a hollow bite,

and as we fall our hands

find the earth.


Yesterday I lost my keys

as my mind wandered away

and I couldn’t find anything

blue, at all.

I disappeared from all the maps

with closed eyes on a spinning compass.

I stole a dog from a lamppost

but he ran away.


The bath sometimes doesn’t fill

but drip drip gurgles gone

through all the invisible cracks

until there are only suds

and I wonder did I even turn

the tap on?


Soon I will lose my way again

along concrete paths and overgrown crossroads

with signposts that ask which way do you choose?

And you reply “All”


Startling a cow.


But I can’t be lost for long because

I was found when I found you.



(First published in Wordlegs Presents: 30 under 30)



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