Poem: Temporarily Lost

Temporarily Lost

I get lost in the smallest things,
the smell of fresh ground coffee,
a warm sun with a cool breeze,
a painting in the gallery window.

Lost. Eyes in space, a place where nothing lives
except the inside of my own mind,
a potent stew of memories, less of things
than emotions.

A good kind of lost, no matter what it may seem
to strangers looking on,

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