anthony, saint of lost things

picture this

it is the mississippi

below the falls of st. anthony

like a lady descends the stair

she is old fashioned, she

pulls at her dark skirts

white ruffles of her petticoats flow delicate

and dangerous

and there is a certain spot

that may catch your eye

where the water dips impossibly down

like a spot where a thing

may be lost

and it seems impossible

new water without a new course

and even the undulations

the perturbations of her descending

are like mathematical equations where you carry

long decimals until they repeat and the answer

is made up of differences that are very small

like the amount of knowing

that makes a thing turn found.