Lost

I saw a lost belt on the street,
Most likely from a coat;
I thought the chances of reunion
Were, at best, remote.

I wondered, had it fallen off
While running for the bus?
And when its owner noticed,
Did said owner make a fuss?

Would he or she return to search,
Retrace that morning route –
Or shrug it off, indifferent, and
Continue the commute?

If it were me, I’d agonize
And fall into a funk;
If gods of mirth were testing me,
I certainly would flunk.

I often spot a lonely scarf,
A mitten or a glove
Upon the sidewalk waiting to
Be rescued from above,

But something really got to me
When I walked by that belt;
I put myself in that gal’s coat
And knew just how she felt.

I’ll never know how it turned out,
No way to have it traced;
But I am hoping that belt’s tied
Around its owner’s waist!