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Easy to Find 

I have often looked inside my drawers

without knowing why.

Something called out.

Seek me and you shall find,

but when I obey

I’m confounded by memory’s fleeting ways.

Hands immerse and return awkwardly empty

like a runaway child

when no one came after them.

~

I know there is something I seek

that hides from me so I can’t think about what I lack.

It is, however, and this is the point,

too damn powerful to be silent and still.

Besides, I know I lack it because I miss it.

~

I miss it.

Whatever “it” is.

Whatever I need it to be it is not that.

It can never be anything but what it is.

And so I search in drawers and closets absent of why,

driven like a machine whose switch has been thrown

just because it can.

~

I miss it.

I wish it could find me.

Maybe I need to stay put long enough for it to do so.

Now there’s a switch.

Let the powerful “it” seek me out.

But for how long must I wait?

And how will I recognize it should it find me?

~

There must be names

for this condition that end in

phobia.

Damn, I hate that suffix.

It all starts with a sense of wonder

and ends in a sense of emptiness.

God, I wish you could find me here.

I’ll tuck myself in a little drawer

right out in the open.

I won’t bury myself under incidentals.

I’ll be right on top.

Easy to find.

Do you need me for anything?

I hope so because I need you for everything.

~

🌿 🌺 🌿

CHAMBER POETRY 19