Treasure Hunt

Mind-dull with a head cold’s fatigue,
I found on my door, this post-it note:
“There starts the treasure hunt: out door.”

And so I followed the trail of post-it notes,
Lovingly placed by one son,
While the other four sons bounded ahead and swarmed behind,
One keeping up a color commentary.

There was a red herring, the word “Fire,” which,
When I opened the cold stove to take the note,
Found, “Not here,” an unexpected full stop.
Nor did it mean lighter, candle, matches, or Lego flames
(Eventually I realized: an electronic device).

This was not, strictly speaking, a treasure hunt,
As the prize was only the encouraging note:
“You made it yay!!!!!”

And yet, there was a treasure.
The thought and care and kindness that was given in
The several dozen clues.
The companionship of sons.

Let me not dismiss this treasure
Simply because there was nothing tangible.