lost ring.

it lies in the long, green grass.
small band of silver, an eye of glass.
after months of careful thought,
it slips from my grasp,
an accident, of all things.
does it wait for me?
does it yearn to rest where it has been for a while,
across oceans and under skies,
or does it expect another fumbling,
small hand to retrieve it?
only a shallow mind could wonder so much,
over a small of band of silver,
with a single glass eye.