NAYA VALDELLON | Lost and Found

NAYA VALDELLON

Lost and Found

THE AUTHOR HOLDS THE COPYRIGHT TO THIS POEM. THIS IS POSTED WITH PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR.

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For the hundreds that are lost within its reach
every day, the city returns double, tells us
to keep the change. The street sweeper
on her hourly rounds knows this, as her broom
reaps shards and wrappers, more of the same
with the same destination. The garbage collector
with his loot of green and black bags knows it,
as does the scavenger who ekes out a living
by stooping over a junk heap, scrabbling
for the salvageable. We who have the luxury
of moaning for what and whom we’ve lost
never had to go through someone else’s trash.
When we find something we call it chance,
not currency. Consider the five-peso coin
picked up by the passerby who, having spent
the afternoon looking down, saw it gleaming
by the gutter. What luck, he whispers,
his lips swollen from too many goodbyes.

This poem is part of the collection that won First Prize for Poetry in the 2005 Palanca Awards