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The Hunt

The Hunt

i scurry

outta bed

gotta go hide the eggs

painted pastels

but the basket’s empty

i look everywhere for the eggs

but all i find are pieces

crushed and chipped

like tiny tiles

i try to find which piece

goes where

i pick one up

and put it down

years go by

did anybody ever find

the golden egg …

was it worth it

all that work

all that time

it took

searching

for a piece of plastic

with something good inside

can somebody tell me

if it was worth it

anybody

wait, what …

what did you say

I said, how do you like your eggs

scrabbled

fried

poached

hard boiled

sunny-side up

or over easy

but I don’t even eat eggs

then why you here

looking for eggs

i don’t know

i was hungry

i guess

well, look for something else

there’s more than eggs

on the menu …

I’ll come back

when you’re ready

TL

Published inPoetry