A scintillating phrase skips across my brain
so I fumble inside an over-sized purse–
chap stick, 3 quarters, a penny
& a hairbrush–determined to snag
a favorite pen.  Its comfortable
grip, smooth tip
might glide across my notebook page,
& cage words before

            poof!

they’re gone. 
Possibly I left the pen on my desk
or a nightstand.  Near a book I’m reading.
Maybe I’ll retrieve floating words
and my pen.

What’s missing may reappear
in a quiet hour, a dream
or not at all.