Kinda Good

There’s a page on the Internet

Says your stuff’ll go missing

Sharp things underfoot

Pens and tacks and pins

Favourite earrings

Special trinkets

Bills and dockets

Gone for good

But I know

That sometimes a lost item

Is simply lost

Misplaced

Forgotten

Because humans are clumsy

And easily distracted

But the honeysuckle creeping

Through the back door

The creak of a window

Which was locked before

A dusting of feathers

From a murdered dove

Smears of butter

And the cream they love

These things aren’t good

Oh no

These things aren’t good at all.

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