Lost and Found
The store had everything
Everything I gave away
and wish I hadn’t
plus everything I wanted
but didn’t need
and even a couple of things I secretly did.
The best part about thrift stores is
you find what you weren’t looking for
among all the people from my past
you were there, talking about
a tennis lesson in Florida,
of all things.
Even more improbable,
I was playing matchmaker, yet
I disentangled myself from the woman
who wanted to meet you
in real life.
Near my old record collection,
we eloped, trying to find a world
where no-one knew us,
but my past found me,
that thief of impossible worlds,
and I lost you, too.
I lost quite a few things during my last journey, so I’ve been retracing my steps in hopes of collecting them.
Things have just been…things.
Also, I’m afraid I’ve neglected my muse(s) as of late, but I took them on a blissfully simple summer picnic at the beach.*
I’ve been losing everything. It’s all sliding through cracks in the universe. Momentum. Focus. Dates. Stuff somebody just told me the day before. Or five minutes ago. Time goblins at work, maybe. Or I’ve gotten old in the space of a week.
In addition to the goblins that are taking up most of my brain space, I’ve had little wordlings floating around in my head. They seem significant, but that’s the curse of the creative sort. It seems wonderfully magical, or horribly prosaic. Still, I’ll put them away for safekeeping. Just in case the goblins get hungry.
a forest of ferns
endless, seething thunderstorms
ancient worlds with no humans
essence of summer
second chance to be a kid
unkindness of ravens
*Disclaimer: This is complete fiction. I’m nowhere near a beach. Except in dreamworlds. But I’ll send you a map if you bring the picnic. Or surprise me with a new When.†
‡But also possibly real in some other dimension.