Under the snow
Things can be found
A filmed single sunglass lens.
Within an old vase
That no one has cleaned for months
Objects of interest could reside
The dry husk of a bug
That hid in the stiff dark green ferns
Of a dear bouquet
Presented at the precise moment
The fish had to be taken out of the oven
Or it would toughen.
Inside of a heart
There can be a space
Leftover from a barely noticed remark
That became a gash
Small and raw
Which left a thin shadow of scar
That throbs when the humidity rises.
But within a soul
Whether you locate it in the brain
Or in the gut
A miraculous game of hide and seek can always be played.
That is where I found a picture of my beloved
Diving cleanly into the deep stony shaded lake
Where I learned to float on my back
Staring at the sky
Ignoring that the other creatures below
Knew I was there.