Ode to Lost Keys

 

Where’d my keys go, where’d they hide?

They’ve sprouted legs, they’re not inside,

The dish or on their labeled hook,

On the floor? NO! I looked!

Not in the door or on the bar,

Not in the slot to start the car.

Not in the dirt or on the seat,

NOT ON THEIR HOOK, may I repeat!

 

Did I drop them at the mall?

I drove—but then? I don’t recall!

Careful now, I must retrace,

To every toilet, every place,

That I have sat or leaned or stood,

Where I have traveled, or I could

Have lost them—oh I hope they’re dry…

O drat! They’re jingling on my thigh!

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