The challenge this week was to write about things lost and found. Here are the result.
Lost and FoundMy son got a ship in a bottle kit for Christmas. The informational book that came with it was all about tall ships. The USCG vessel Eagle graced the cover. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. So, here's my contribution for the week.
by Kate Coombs of Book Aunt
The day loses color
as the sun slides away.
Gold turns to blue
and blue turns to gray.
Gray turns to charcoal
and charcoal to black.
I'll live without color
till dawn brings it back.
--Kate Coombs, 2011, all rights reserved
Lost and Found
by Jane Yolen
I have lost love,
am trying to find it again.
Not like a black ribbed sock,
lost in the washer,
or a puppy unleashed
who has run away,
or a noun once firmly in my head
and now somewhere in the ether
of an aging mind.
My love was lost to the crab,
to a succession of treatments
that prolonged but did not sustain life.
And now I am looking,
like a bad country song,
in all the wrong places—
on the Internet, at conferences,
during dinner parties,
at gray-haired men on Scottish streets,
in the assembly line of old hands
wanting one more chance at the gold ring,
©Jane Yolen 2011, All rights reserved
by Amy LV of The Poem Farm
It’s lonely here in lost and found,
one mitten whispered to one glove.
I hope someone will help me find
the child I will forever love.
I miss throwing piles of snowballs
with that hand I used to hold.
I wonder if he has warm pockets.
I hope he does.
It’s getting cold.
© Amy Ludwig VanDerwater
by Diane Mayr of Random Noodling
Okay, so the baby wasn't perfect,
blemished we often wrapped her
in a blanket of myth. But her
constitution was so sweet.
Admirable. She was loved.
The fairies came under cover
of flag and cross. We became
distracted by trinkets. Our thoughts
shut out by constant noise.
We lost sight of our precious baby.
And the fairies had their way.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved
LOST AND FOUND
by Carol Weis
the one you’ve
lifted rugs to find
inside your head
while you dawdled
around your day
lost with one
dinner last night
only to reappear
as you sank
© Carol Weis, all rights reserved
Susan Taylor Brown of Susan Writes left this poem.
on Christmas eve
1 turkey, stuffed
1 bowl of potatoes, mashed with butter
helpings of sweet corn, slices of bread
pumpkin pie, 2 pieces
numerous glasses of wine and champagne
on Christmas morning
a stocking full of
fudge, peppermint sticks
a breakfast of bacon, eggs,
biscuits drizzled with butter and honey
and most of my willpower
© Susan Taylor Brown, all rights reserved
UPON LOSING ANOTHER EARRING
by Julie Larios of The Drift Record
It’s a long story with lots of losing –
one earring, two earrings, ten, then my hearing,
then the fine hair of my right ear’s interior,
then my balance and my bearing.
Believe me, what’s happening
is the opposite of win-win but why
start whining about the small things?
Soon the lobes will go, and the cartilage after,
as well as what’s larger, what’s between one ear
and the other, then the neck and everything below,
shoulders to toes, breasts, elbows, knees,
God knows there are no safe zones, all of it
will go missing soon enough, just toughen up,
buy another pair and get on with it.
by Toby Speed
I looked for you in the letter you sent.
I looked for you in your chair.
I looked for you in the steam of the soup.
I drew a picture of you, and I looked there, too.
I looked for you in the veins of the leaves.
I made up a song about you, and the song evaporated.
When I looked in my pockets, I found my hands.
When I looked in my hands, I found my face.
I looked for you in half a moon, but you were in the half I couldn't see.
I dreamed you were standing on a hill far away, and the hills kept moving.
I looked for you everywhere,
and I couldn't find you anywhere.
Then I heard your voice on the telephone.
You said some words, and I heard the inside of your voice and not the words.
I looked in the mirror, and I saw you.
I looked in a pile of leaves, and I saw you.
I listened to a chord on the guitar, and I heard you.
I smelled the scent of pine needles, and I smelled you.
I bit into an apple, and I tasted you.
When I looked at the clock, it told me you were coming closer.
I drew your picture in my palm.
I kept that picture in my glove.
I looked for you anywhere,
and I found you everywhere.
Memories of the EagleIt's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll add it to the list.
Courage while climbing the main
deep love for the sea
an iron stomach
respect for Mother Nature and her fickle ways
the ability to do almost anything
Ever so briefly, a fear of heights
clipped on and hanging
more than 100 feet above the deck