What Are You Looking For?

Looking for Something

The shelves of the pantry, sometimes appear, like a jigsaw puzzle or, No! a pinball machine. My eyes are like the round, chrome ball bouncing from can to can to bottle to box. Unable to find the object of my search, they ricochet off of the colors and shapes in there…

With her head bent over the morning papers or the coffee cup in her hand she says “what are you looking for?” And I am a combination of half asleep, bothered that I can not find it for myself, that she has to ask me the same question every time I stand here like I do, and flattered that she will take the moment to even want to know. It is such a common question and so predictably offered up that while I looked for my breakfast in there this morning I thought I heard her talking to me. But then I thought, maybe not! Did she just ask me ‘the question’? Or was that my imagination? So, I said to her, “did you just say something?” and she said “No! But what are you looking for?” And I smiled and said, "the matzos" but in my heart what I was really looking for was the question.