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.