Being Lost

by Micheal Keaveney

Being lost tastes like a dinner
After a night’s sleep

Being lost looks like a child
Looking for its mother

Being lost smells like wet grass and mud
After a week of fine weather

Being lost feels like you don’t know what to do
On a good day

Being lost sounds like a voice
Lost in the forest

Being lost is out in the desert
Nowhere to go
Nothing to do

Written as part of Poetry as Commemoration workshops for Transition Years led by Terry McDonagh and Mary Melvin Geoghegan in Castlerea Community School, Roscommon, in  October 2023.