Le Bureau des Objets Trouvés or The Lost and Found Department
There is a room in every city where people go to find their lost ones
Within four large walls there lies an offering to tempt one's luck
Keys, umbrellas, suitcases, phones and nick-nacks unbeknownst
from head to toe -a stuffed duck watch-dogging the room
And within these walls appear hundreds of woeful, concentrated and persistent faces
some panicking, some reaching deep into their pockets
all walking like on a high wire at the circus
A door shuts, through a window a ray ponders an object;
the wind makes some keys jingle
A lady walks in with another sack of goods to label
Outside people go about their business
and inside, one by one we ask:
'How was each loss birthed?'
-A hole in a bag
-A momentary distraction
- A broken habit leading to a new resolution?
One by one these shuffling bodies depart
A few with heads up
Others holding a little paper with hopeful bliss that
it will be found...
In the meantime the Department of Lost and Found
relishes in its chimes and smells from all lives and continents around.