Or Can’t Be Found at All

Every day he heads back to the garden.
It’s not his garden, but no one minds him.

He’s not actually gardening at all.
He doesn’t weed. He likes the weeds too much.

He’s poaching, a little bit. Borrowing
In hopes he’ll borrow something worth stealing.

What have we here today? Methodical,
Most of the time, he wanders row by row.

He doesn’t really know what he’s hunting.
If he knew, if he found it, he’d take it

And keep it and leave the garden alone.
But so far, no. He’s still stalking the rows.

It would be funny if he’s missing it,
What can only be found in this garden.