Lost lines

Those things that don't arrive

on demand,

things that stop fingers

and interrupt beautiful stories:

where they went

and where they go

who knows

who will tell?

They may break into words or song

crumble into syllable and dust

creep into conversations

as filler or frill,

but lost lines

return in disguise

alleviate other headaches

fill spaces differently made

energize.

Don’t believe,

but flip the question and ask

‘where did those other lines

that came without saying

and wrote themselves almost

where did they come from

which lyrics or love notes

did they escape from?’

All lines are lost

and words are people

looking for the once-familiar

but gone

perhaps forever. 

Lost lines are consolation prizes

in competitions no one ever wins.