Wednesday, July 24, 2013


When traveling, we need to
Concentrate on our belongings, 
Because the usual placements 
Are temporarily gone.

I spend time looking for things
I think I have certainly lost,
But then show up again 
In unusual locations.

Our possessions become
Invisible among  our
host's/hostesses' things. 
Ours just disappear.

Although suitcases steal
Clothing and toiletries, 
Backpacks are even worse:
The crannies are endless.

"I just had it, now where 
Did it go?" "This time,
it must be really lost!" 
Mostly, "it" reappears.

Not that I don't lose
Things at home, I do.
I have a Trickster
Who plays with me,

As well as a helper who 
Moves my hand toward
Lost objects when I
Relax enough to allow.

In late-age paranoia, 
Mom thought Bob was 
Hiding her things, and 
maybe she was right.

She was controlling;
He was passive and,
Maybe, passive aggressive.
They communicated poorly.

But I assured her that I
Frequently misplace
Things in my solo life.
No one to blame but me.

Because I tend to misplace, 
I have some automatics:
Keys ALWAYS on the
Right side of my body.

On vacation, when searching
AGAIN for a mundane
Article, I naively yearn 
For my organized home.

Our things are just 
External accoutrement.
Our Self and all the inner
Trimmings are the essence.

Although we attach to people
As well as places, home, 
Of course, is where our heart is.
I can, thus, always find home.

Ann Beth Blake
(c) July 24, 2013

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