Miniature spotlights scoured grass and mud-heaps,
poured brightness over the field like showers
of yellow-gold water.
Scrunched toes grew stiff in damp shoes,
ankles blistered as time ticked on and numbers
folded into themselves.
My parents watched, saw the stark white eyes
of the young dog-handler, the relief
when he found no body.
They called it an impossible case, unsolvable,
like a crossword with no clues;
They turned, they left.
My bones remain.