Things
by Margaret C. Rigsby

I’m always losing things
subtly
as though when my back is turned
against the wind, I whirl around to find them
gone.

Sometimes it’s things I notice
I used to embody,
like the smile
that once adorned my face,  

Or the sparkle of animation in my eyes
that rendered itself to the contents
of my soul
for those who gazed
within.

Friends, lovers, husbands,
my desire to get out of bed.
Things everyone seems to possess so readily.

The oddity of it is,
I never lose my apathy.

©  1997 - beyond