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Found at Lost Lake
by Glenn CurrierI can’t find my left glove
we have to go back to Lost Lake
to search.
Glove found on the ground
where they gathered leaves of red and gold
oh-ing and ah-ing
in awe
of a bold autumn.
Where are my keys?
Frantically we look
Sis finds them between the seat and console
dropped when buckling my seatbelt.
Where are my new leather gloves
iPhone flashlight out to see in the deepening shadows.
They are on the floor right behind my feet.
We laugh at our aging ineptitude
happy we are together
finding mutual aid and humor
at Lost Lake. 10/30/2018 Author's Note: Written after a visit to Lost Lake, Whistler B.C. Canada
Posted on 10/30/2018
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/30/18 at 02:29 PM Been there, to this metaphorical Lost Lake, several times! Ha! Well done, and spot on. I don't think my thank you for comments on Cat Farewell got through so I will thank you here, Glenn. |
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