

and people want me to tell them
what to pack.” (Morrie Schwartz)

Pack lightly.
All your memories
in the palm
of one hand.
Bring something to eat—
humble pie, a little sugar,
a few poems,
and to drink—
a bottle of bitters.
Swallow everything
before you reach
the other side.
Take lists
of things you wish you had
and had not done,
of every injustice
ever done to you.
When they blur
in the rain,
throw them away.
The tiniest child
you’ve ever held,
the biggest fish
you never caught,
your best friend
and the love
of your life.
Say goodbye,
then strap them
on your back.
The only map
will be your body.
Follow your veins
as they flow
to the sea.