Lost Poem by Sheena Blackhall

In a strange village I stroll off, get lost
Useless at jigsaws, dunce at reading maps
A dervish snowflake in a land of frost

One corner leads to others. I accost
Each passing person. Some evade my traps
Or freely dispense errors at no cost

The streets look similar. Was that one I'd crossed?
No burning bush or fiery phoenix flaps
To aid my navigation, tempest-tossed

With people too I have this memory lapse
I scratch for recognition amongst scraps
Of meetings, greetings… neural pathway snaps
Nearer the Styx where horrid Cerberus yaps