On the Ground, I Found Lost Keys, Are They Still Lost Keys or Are They Found Keys

Not in the stars but the space between

She is looking

For Something

Sometimes

Anything

But it is not a piece that is missing

It isn’t invisible reminiscing

But she is afraid of forgetting

Grasping at the inevitable ebbing

Like a tip of the tongue type of thought

Or lack of gravity on the lost astronaut

And with the absence of that force

Is to feel detached from some source

Suspended in levitation in outer space

Living with the lack of “that” which she had in the first place

A misbehaving brain, with a wayward memory misplaced

She knows it's there, it’s not exactly erased

Requesting a recollection to be recalled but upon ringing, it disobeyed

The thing that you just had in your hand, now it vanished

You can still feel that phantom doodad, how did it happen?

Certain that you never put it down

She’s not “lost” but prior to this, she did not need to be “found”

Neither word, coming out of her mouth, make the right sound

She is searching for that severed connection

That compass inside that used to dictate direction

She walked with fearless purpose

Seemingly never nervous

She stepped with deserved assuredness

What is it about childhood

Those wild winds in the wood

When we stood

Exactly where we knew we should

It was OUR EARTH

Not “ours to conquer”

At what point did we dismiss this

And deny ourselves this bliss

Are we now or were we then oblivious

To believe in this

Not in the stars but the space between

She is looking

For Something

She’s looking for her lost keys