Lost and Found
This poem first appeared in print in the Fall 2017 issue of GFT Presents: One in Four. Order a copy now for late Fall 2017 delivery.
Lost and Found
Could you stop at the desk
on your way home and ask
the clerk if anything of use
was found today?
If it’s as simple as collecting
the scattered pieces of a life
and placing them in a box—
a hand, a jacket, hair, pride,
a notebook—
perhaps we’re in luck.
I’ll be just past the edge
of town parked on gravel
off Highway 6 and Cemetery Road,
far enough out
to lose the city lights,
the late night traffic. The warmth of the car
hood against my back
fighting the chill of autumn.
I hear the shadows of deer
watching me
swim in the sky full of stars.
Copyright © 2017 Jeff Nesheim | All Rights Reserved
First appeared in GFT Presents: One in Four.