Search Parties



We never did find Waldo.

That wily striped shirt guy
(stupid hat
taunting us like a bulls-eye)

got to go everywhere,
while we sat in un
-comfortable chairs
and ran our fingers along
the glossy pages, waiting
for the slightest flash
of red
(no, that’s a fireman.)

The librarian knew
us by name, remember?

She asks about you
as I sit in those same
dusty seats
and wonder about you
w   a   n  d   e   r   i   n   g
out there in that great
big world.

Written for Poetic Asides

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7 Responses to Search Parties

  1. Misky says:

    My youngest grew up with Waldo. Cute books.

  2. Em says:

    Your brain is my favorite place in the universe. I’m so lucky to have a key.

    I flipping LOVE this poem. Thank you for writing it.

  3. This was beautiful, simple, and endearing. Masterfully written!

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