trout

In the 'lost and found'

Michael Harlow

On this mouse-coloured street
where look-alike is a positive

print, each photo op a Sunday
special, whole families are out

in their glads snapping pictures
of each other's mums and dads

and you and me. So small
their windows frame the all

of it, they are busy addressing
the world with a fine cosmological

eye — it almost takes your breath
away: that old game looking

for a black cat in a black room
where there is none; but sure

they are, living inside the lost
and found, that old dream how

no one becomes somebody one day
they will, you see, find one anyway