Lost and Found Dairy

Lost and Found Dairy

(A Performance Poem)

I woke this morning,

With the taste of milk still lingering on my tongue,

But I couldn't find the carton,

Couldn't find the fridge,

Not a trace of yesterday's promises

Of creamy solace and morning warmth.

I searched high, I searched low,

Under the couch, in the corners,

Chasing shadows,

Forgetting the cold.

My fingers brushed the air,

Hoping it would guide me to what was lost,

The carton, the liquid,

The smoothness I knew would heal my throat.

But it had vanished,

Melted like frost at dawn.

So, I wondered...

How many things do we lose each day,

Not just dairy, but moments too?

The seconds that slip through our grasp,

The words we thought we'd said

But somehow, they fell into the cracks.

I lost myself somewhere,

In the middle of yesterday’s haste,

In the swirl of a glass half-empty,

In the tilt of a cup,

That never quite tasted right.

Then, I found it.

Not in the fridge, not on the shelf,

But in my hands,

Cradling a new carton,

Fresh and untouched,

Like hope in a bottle,

A reminder that some things find their way back

When you stop chasing and just wait.

There is a rhythm to loss,

A pulse to the found,

Like the butter on my toast,

The cream in my coffee,

A promise wrapped in foil,

The simple return

Of something you didn't even know you missed.

So here's to the lost and found,

To the dairy and the days,

To the fleeting and the permanent,

And to the sweetness

That comes from looking,

Then letting go,

And sometimes, just letting it find you.