as far away as yesterday

a more daring, more decided soul would take measures:
would place a few lines in the daily personals ("lost/or mislaid/purely sentimental value/dearly missed");
would paste his likeness onto wall and window and lamp-post, questioning, blackly bold on wrinkled paper ("have you seen this person?");
would have his name looped poignantly in plumes of smoke across the sky.
but her words, in print, on placard, or scrolled toward infinity, would only fall into the unfailing silence, and it is time to turn aside.