Lost

They fall into a different dimension

Along with the library book

That disappeared on a plane,

Never found.

There’s a place known to exist

On an oblique.

It absorbs matter

Without leaving a trace.

It is not entirely rational

And will, on a whim,

Return a book or a sock...

Or not.

When I was a child this "other"

Would steal my earmuffs.

A winter was incomplete

Without eight or ten such thefts.

I thought to outsmart this prankster

By moving to a warmer climate,

But neither maturity (otherwise known as aging)

Or earmuff abstinence stopped the fiend.

Now, in my dotage, it is socks and baseball caps.

This plague has brought me to a desperate pass.

I am determined to rid my life of all non-essentials.

Tomorrow I walk naked, for the first day of Forever.