I forget all about Mr. Langley
and the sad song his feet played,
being as Milo is gone
when we get back home.
I look in every corner,
behind the trees,
in the trees, even though
I know he can’t climb them.
I look under a pot that was
turned over in last night’s wind,
even though he’s too big
to fit under it. I look
through the fence spaces,
into the neighbors’ yards,
even though he always
stayed where he was
supposed to.
But Milo
is gone.