Lost (.1)

[TranquillityBase]

Lights drone overhead,
Concrete, shines a pasty white.
smooth, hard, and cold                 concrete is understood to be all these things, so not sure you need these adjectives
by the step.


Blur of checkers                         the checkers puzzle me a bit, a little unclear how they fit into the rest of the action
rolls out of sight.
The pitter patter of small feet;        "pitter patter of small feet" is a bit cliche,  maybe just "slap of small feet"?
giggles round the corner, but–
no baby to be found.


Silence sizzles like pop rocks
cradled in a tongue.
Timeness trickles off the chin            "Timeness"?
onto the sterile floor.


Fading back into mind,
the laughter from before;
bounding heel to heel
to the end of the corridor.


A heavy thud falls to the concrete             I don't think a child would make a "thud".....I'd rethink this whole line
Stopping legs in there tracks                       their
Followed by the baby’s quaking wails.
Sending cold waves down the skin.


But the baby is not around the corner
and is nowhere to be found.
The baby still wailing 

Nothing on the ground.

Giggles chide from far off away.
A blur of checkers bouncing out of sight.
Leaving the screaming air behind
under the pasty light.

I like the ghostly quality of this poem and the narrative pulls me along, mostly successfully, and I like the random rhymes.  I've noted a few criticisms above.