Lost Glasses

They went missing
like a pair of cats that wander off and get stuck
in a neighbour's shed.
Through the blur I take cautious steps and check ,
patting with my hand the places
they would normally be. Above the bed,
shelf, on my desk, next to the shower.
I call them back mentally –
They must be sitting somewhere quiet and inanimate
waiting to be found. While I blunder about probably
Not too far away. Or somewhere really obvious
And unusual that I can’t see, outside the sphere of routine.
I ask around, did anyone see?
And check and re-check those places where they should be,
just incase they have decided to turn up.
I go through my morning routine
without them, turn the lights on, go to the loo, make tea,
(thank goodness for muscle memory)
shuffle about sleepily turn the computer on,
and I can’t go on it ends there.
So I check and re-check blearily and bang my head at
Square One, irritated at the lack of progress,
hoping now that they’ve had their fun
and might have decided to turn up, and be sitting smugly
where I left them.
I peer, wince, blink but the world is far,
and nobodyis giving anything away
And I’m left with the only the stupid objects that are
Close to me.