Missing

by Derek Reid

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I have been walking the beach for years

with an eye for lost treasure in the sand

I have stayed cold nights on docks and dunes

with sifter and spade clutched in hand

I’ve often started at dawn and excavated until dusk

on this beach where I believe I went missing–

 

 

What made the redlipped cherub want to speak to say

my name I’ll never know but my face recoiled

when her question hit “What are you missing?”

and the redhot things sunk to my core

making the fire that heats this page “What are

you missing?” like a man keeps lists O that face–

 

 

That shell around that egg that birthed

that wise thought “What–” she said missing O I’m just

lost and I’m digging pits in the beach I should

have said “–missing?” I am ingredientless I am all

alone in this ugly dusk but with a good eye

for lost treasure in the sand–

 

 

Eight rows of fifteen black wet pits today

slowly filling up with high-tide’s slush – another night’s

downfalling and no sight of my humanship it’s still missing

O just kill me I can’t bear to be lost – but the girl keeps

looking with eyes like suns she’s a miraclewoman

holding treasuremaps to the beach “What–”

 

 

“–missing?” O just some bloody parts

totaling 97% of myself have gone missing –

gently, gently, she whispers my name – she touches the sand

and that is where I’ll dig – O O she puts her soaking

soft lips on my cheek and points down at the surf –

the young white froth is rushing forward to fill us all up

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