What is This Thing?

What is this thing that isn’t there?
Will-o’-the-wisp? Trick of the air?

I know it’s here, because it’s not.
The missing-ness is like a blot
Upon the space where it should be.
It’s there, because I cannot see.

What is this thing that isn’t there,
This thing that’s here, but still nowhere?

Perhaps enchantment plays a role
In this something someone stole
Away from where the eye can view.
It’s here, but I can see right through.

What is this thing that isn’t there,
Hiding in plain sight, somewhere?

And yet, its being there I feel,
And draws me with its strange appeal
Into a mist I must pass through,
To find out what it is, or who.

What is this thing that isn’t there,
That calls me to its fabled lair,
That once was mine, so long ago,
And now eludes my need to know?

What is this thing?

February 5, 2011, Los Angeles
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