Lost things

Sometimes I wonder how my lost things are doing. Do they think of me as often I think of them? Do they look for ways to get back home? Is someone else weaving their dreams around my lost items? Are they happy to have found it?

I think of the little teddy bear keychain I lost as a child, where is it now? Is it under heaps of rubble, or has it been found by someone who keeps it with their other keychains?
That doll that my brother threw down the window, is its hair still that shade of golden? Or, has it been found by a child that knocked her eyes off playfully?

Once things are lost, we do not know where it goes. But somewhere it continues to exist. Far away from us. In some corner. Perhaps left unnoticed. How strange, something that used to be an important part of your life is now gone and nobody knows where it is. I wonder if they ache to return home just as I ache to have them back.