one lost shoe

where's my
other shoe, not here,
not under
the bed,
not in the corner being
chewed
by the evil one,
my dog moe.
how could I lose one
shoe.
I look out the window,
not there,
not on the sidewalk,
or in a bush,
not in the bathroom,
not on
the steps,
or in the kitchen.
I make a few calls
asking
if anyone has seen my shoe.
it's black,
with laces.
size ten. scuff marks
on the toe.
my favorite shoe.
no one has seen it.