Things I've Lost

Things I’ve Lost
(Not Counting Cats, Dogs, Eyeglasses and Socks)

One tarantula, lost through divorce
A stone fish, a boa, two canaries, my horse

Three teeth, a toenail, a sliver of bone
A great-aunt named Toodles I wish I had known

A marbled balloon, a full piggy bank
At Sea World my hat fell right into the shark tank!

My house, a sock monkey, both lost to a fire
With thousands of books- a most literate pyre

My sense of smell, the nerves in my hand
My spring and with it a large chunk of land

My fondness for several quite dangerous drugs
As well the acquaintance of innumerable thugs

My-brain-as-Swiss-cheese sculpture Sister Alida made
The chance to go to Stanford, with all expenses paid

The shape of my nose, my short-distance vision
And, had I ever got it, the Poisson Distribution

In Spanish the whole of the subjunctive tense
Japanese, Latin and most of my French

My essay (’65) that explained everything
Quartz flapper beads (Grandma’s), my golden snake ring

The Big Leaf Magnolia my son snapped in two
My mother’s gold bracelet, my old Case Canoe

Most of my homework and all of my jobs
40-odd Oxycontin (I think I was robbed!)

A femur-head cane, a small pearl-handled gun
The laughing small child, now my grown-up son

My mother, my father, my grandfather Stuyve
My dearest Aunt Jane, gone though alive

My family, my friend Caritina’s address
Nancy, Marla and Hannah (and her grandmother’s dress)

Three husbands, a few dozen lovers and Don
The respect of a man in (wait for it!) Nooksack, Washington

Pam’s caramel recipe, my curly-topped staff
If I found them all, I wonder,  would it be enough?