Whatever I lose today
will likely end up in my toy chest
from childhood. I don’t know
where that is, either.

It was built like
a bench with a back
so perhaps someone’s sitting on it
and that’s why I can’t find it. 

It was built to be subsequent furniture
so you could stuff it
with items other than toys
when childhood ended.

But I never took the toys out of it
and I suspect that it has been overfilled
with later playthings over time.
Not even a majority

of what’s in my missing toy chest
was put there by me. It was
a vacuum sucking up what I thought I loved,
or should at least cling to for life. 

Whatever I lose or have lost
from words to sensations
to longings will be there. If I find it
I’ll spend some time rummaging through

to see what I want
to keep or can recall
how to play with them, remember
why I wanted to hold onto them.

To see if I recognize them,
can call them by name,
still care for them
if I ever truly did.