When you came for me,
I was ready.
I packed up hurt
and folded it neatly into a valise;
I scooped up resolve and poured it
into a thermos to drink later;
I pressed regret between two slices of bread,
and tomato with some Dijon mustard,
slid it into a zip loc baggy
and pinched the plastic lips closed
with thumb and forefinger.
I stopped the mail and papers;
I boarded the cat;
I disconnected the phone
and cancelled my Internet service.
I sold my bicycle,
my very breath.
I kissed you on the cheek
and said not to worry so much,
and we made love and fun synonyms.
I remembered and forgot;
I put grief in my back pocket
and I forgave everything -
the timing, the youth
the indiscretions committed
in the haste of living so short a life.
When you came for me,
I was ready.
Yet I was surprised.
M.B 2004