“Lost”

  

c. 2026 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(8-26)

 

Running out of confidence, with the year at its end

Waiting for the season to change, once again

And knowing that will leave me behind

Truly out of sight, and out of mind

I am often homebound for days and weeks

With little to expect but a lonely streak

It is a curious affair

A result of years spent going nowhere

I am lost

 

I’ve heard it said that pleading for help is wise

But that sort of equation does not suffice

I won’t drop on bended knees

That is abhorrent to me

So instead, I struggle through the storms that arrive

Through the winter adventures of a nostalgic sleigh ride

Though my vantage point is a narrow slot

In between snow drifts on my trailer-park lot

I am lost

 

Some say that it would be better to retreat

Like a vacationer, venturing toward a condominium suite

But that won’t get it

Such a plan does not fit in my budget

I’ll be here throughout every torrent and tempest

Stuck in my shelter, hoping to rest

On a disability groove

No need for my socks and shoes

I am lost

 

Phone service fails when the power is cut

The reception in my commune, roasted like a chestnut

It makes me ponder that the age has expired

And I have survived, due to unplugged wires

A benefit of my talent for going in the wrong direction

Better suited to avoiding affection

In an environment of solitary folk

A tribe of miscreants, who won’t take the yoke

I am lost

 

Acting up, and being marked as such

Out of hope, and verbally out of touch

I will watch the weather forecasts and plan ahead

Despite the fact that at night, in my bed

I toss and turn, over that impending broadside

Shown on a silver screen, tall and wide

My breath is hot, and the window is cold

An undercover agent, on patrol

I am lost

 

Running loose, in the dreary dreamscape

A superhero without their leotard and cape

Counting the squares on my calendar page

Until the accident of an open cage

From Mother Nature at her best

I cling lovingly to her maternal breast

Hobbled and handicapped, a lame mule in its stall

This is my prediction for enduring it all

I am lost

 

A nod and wink, as the candle glows

With a gentle projection of murkiness and shadows

Ghosts peer from behind a door left ajar

And in my groggy state, I wonder who they are

Perhaps an old benefactor, come to call

Or merely a length of twine, hanging on the wall

This familiar ritual will persist through the freeze

As I dine on cold cuts, and processed cheese

I am lost

 

With a cracker as my treat for making these sacrifices

Eliminating indulgences and impure vices

A pat on the shoulder for staying strong in the moment

A suspended sentence for time already spent

This is the walk I pursue, when topography turns white

With a glaze on the glass that obstructs my oversight

Scrolling through options on the flatscreen

Thumbing through pages of a back-issue magazine

I am lost

 

Until that change, when the melting is merciful

And I emerge, like a hermit, looking pitiful

Deeply chuffing the first aroma of awakening

The rise of a rosebud, the spawn of a seedling

I will wait, at the top of my stairs

Oddly out-of-place, with no cause to go anywhere

This is the yield of my temperance and fortitude

To discover I am no better, than when born of the brood

I am lost

 

I’ve never connected with the cares and concerns

Never understood the appeal of legal terms

And that disposition has not improved

The graying of hairs has left me sadly unmoved

But at the point of this fortunate brag

I’ll be grateful to gather my rambling rags

The solar orb shines, safely from a distance

And that example will inspire, my own persistence

Though I am lost

 

Still, so lost