Connections among the Lost
J. Quinn Brisben
The Big Lost River fails by miles to meet
The Little Lost, they disappear in mud
And ash still separate, their fading could
Mean lava tubes that drain them down to great
And unseen depths which surface in some neat
Conjunction way the hell and gone that would
Not make a mark on any map but should
Make wonder, lines that should not miss a beat
But do, in central Idaho, a place
As real as any other on the chart,
Beyond our ken unless we try to trace
An unseen flow between two things apart
By etching lightning jumping space
Between synapses making thought and art.
