It was never exactly pinpointed
for only the African Crowned Eagles knew of the twisting paths
to its misplaced place.
In that crystalline chamber, upon that gold dusted floor
were found much thumbed volumes of all Nietzsche’s
works,
a penguin in a glass bell,
a twig cut from the tree of Life one million years from now'
A windblown leaf but only the wind that blew it.
a silver cuspidor, a ancient helmet made of Pittsburgh steel,
a Neolithic moonshine still,
a copy of the illustrated Karma Sutra,
several debunked words of wisdom from Aristotle,
an Olmec Letter Opener.
and a stuffed tufted rat.
The find has been carefully transported to the Smithsonian
where neuroscientists are trying
to solder together all these missing links.
The NYT has declared these odd finds
to be ‘Russian disinformation,’
but ‘Bokonon’ the mythical poet-sage of the Republic
of Never-Never Land
has blessed each artifact and declared them
to be far too strange not to be absolutely true.
Their grinning heads cover the fields for acres
A sea of happy mini suns, welcoming us to Kansas.
We stare, amazed, having no idea this was possible.
There are photo moments and we take them all.
A gift shop sports stuffed dogs and cats,
With sunflower headbands and kerchiefs.
Everywhere we look a plate, cup, tumbler,
letter opener, Christmas ornament with a sunflower
This is sunflower hell my husband observes, so I send him to the car.
He can wait for me. I pile sunflower notepads and pens into a basket.
A lady wearing a sunflower apron, hat and socks smiles at me.
She gets closer and whispers. “Be sure and look in the bathroom.
Of course, I do and am not disappointed. Everything fancy.
Sunflower rug, sunflower chair, sunflower faucets.
I have to admit I was very disappointed by the plain white toilets.
Until I saw the sunflower toilet paper.
A woman carrying a child wearing a sunflower bib walks past.
“Where did you get it?” I ask her. She points.
Good! Sale rack! A manager comes over and offers to hold my basket.
When I get home with the bib I remember my youngest grandchild is five.
A GIFT
You've given me a piece of your soul
Inside a sunken brown envelope written handle with care
As if I was born heavy-handed.
You've telescoped my soul once more
In its caravan on a mountain slope
Stooped by a bulky backpack.
It's good you've frozen that portion of my long journey
I could have missed the sun just because I stooped too low
That I could only see my heavy footsteps.
I've always known when I unwrapped your love
With my crystal-pure letter opener, I’ve trapped a powerful force
That allows me to forge ahead with its timely smiles!
What I just received is a static showcase of dynamic love!
Dalila Agtani
Entered in a contest sponsored by Brian Strand