Lost Keys

I think street etiquette dictates that if you come across a lost key you leave it where you found it, what else could you do, it's not worth much for scrap metal, unless forged of solid gold. In which case it might be too soft to turn a stubborn lock.

This morning I saw keys on the ground by the fence at Beth Elohim looking like they opened a bike lock and left them there. A little later I saw this one that someone had carefully placed in a gap in the tile at a downtown Brooklyn subway stop I don't usually wind up in. It looks like sleeping beauty lying there, waiting for her perfect match. Maybe it's yours? Is it the key to your heart? If so, I'll tell you where I saw it.

Maybe one of the bits of tile in the nearby mosaic belongs to you. Meanwhile, pieces of the white tile below it look like icebergs deteriorating.