Rings, lost and found

They were nothing but a few stones
Set on two separate silver bands.

Each of them rested pretty,
On my love finger and its right counterpart.

Slipping them every morning became
As voluntary as zipping up.

Suddenly I couldn’t find the amber
For my right finger.

I missed wearing it for two days
Even looked for it within my closets.

I was content with wearing the crystals
On my love finger, till

I lost it too, and suddenly
There was nothing to support my reflexes.

But just this morning
I found something I lost long before I lost my rings.

It was a memory of a balmy afternoon
When a drizzle shadowed the sundrops for seconds.

The sky had got its own ring then
And I had captured it in my memory.

I had forgotten all about it
As I tried remembering to slip my finger rings every morning.