Looking For

The kind of land, close
to where what-is-missing
hides. You can only see
the sign if you are wounded.

I've done everything I could,
searched gravel roads, sifted
through rubble, inspected the soil
for animal foraging or hunting.

Wrapped in a dirty blanket, below
the sign, were bits and pieces of
what-I-was-looking-for. In the end,
there wasn't enough left of it

to call it valuable.

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