Neither Lost, Nor Found




At once we stepped, one foot

In front of the other

Into a world we did not understand,

Looking but not seeing the hidden riddles

Beneath mounds of snow-covered sand


Go back to your pillow, yes

Close your eyes

Pretend and deny what you will;

Your foolishness has granted you

Plausible deniability but left you a hefty bill


Partake of the poison, sweet

Malignancy of the vine

We are vagrants, you and I

Pushing our way across the tundra,

The remains of a discontented sigh



(PhotoPin: photo credit: <a href=””>Shezamm</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)


29 responses »

  1. I love the idea of lost or hidden things that are usually right there in front of us. Very beautiful poem. It reminds me a little of Wordsworth or some of the more old fashioned poems.

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