An Expectation of Stillness
Where to the odd spoons come from?
Where do the lost socks go?
Where is the place?
Is it someplace in space?
Am I part of a magic show?
Where is the dress I was saving for some day,
now that someday’s here?
The inanimate world has rules of its own
that are not entirely clear.
It’s interface with humanity has been posited as a cause,
but I’m telling you, I put it right there;
I know right where it was.