(18) Lost

I have a notebook somewhere
small, and luminously blue
in binding. It contains
my notes and ideas
on poetry, some drafts in several
states of finishedness and some
which I would consider readable
for other eyes than mine.
I know it still is somewhere,
maybe sitting quietly in a corner
collecting dust or conversing
with the spiders. I know it.
Meanwhile I use empty sheets of paper,
the backs of sheet music and checks
or school notebooks to plan my poems,
experiment with forms or jot down
ideas to consider later.
This works, but poems clutter quickly
fluttering into all the corners
I imagine my missing notebook
to enjoy.
I know it is somewhere I will find it
and yet
today I started a new notebook, small
with a slight reddish brown shine
to the binding.


Today’s prompt was to convey the abstraction of loss and sadness through physical details. I’m afraid my poem is only slightly sad though, because I myself feel ridiculously happy and liberated right now.

Heute sollten wir ein Gedicht schreiben, in dem die abstrakten Gefühle Traurigkeit und Verlust durch physische Details konkret werden. Ich fürchte, ich habe gerade nicht so viel Traurigkeit in mir, weil ich so erleichtert und befreit bin zur Zeit, deswegen ist mein Gedicht nur geringfügig traurig geworden.