The smallest human bone in the ear
           weighs no more than a grain of rice.
 
She keeps thinking it means something
            but probably is nothing.
 
Something’s lost, she craves it
             hunting in pockets, sleeves,
 
checks the eyelets in fabric.
             Could you confirm you were his sister?
 
 When they pass her his rimless glasses,
             they’re tucked into a padded sleeve;
 
several signatures later,
             his rucksack is in her hands
 
(without the perishables),
             lighter than she had imagined.