I hope it becomes found.

Loss. Perhaps Stupidity.

I recount my steps to here twice;
try and be on the safe side. I find nothing,
but reevaluate everything I've packed
until now; shove it back in bags;
mourn the loss of something that hasn't been mine
for long enough that I should even know I've lost it.

There one minute, in another
it wasn't. My failure
is not to be able to pinpoint the change.