Heart Mountain
Gaman
It’s impossible to pack
three decades of married life
in two suitcases.
How do I choose what to carry
into uncertainty?
The notice nailed
to the telephone pole
ordered us to bring bedding,
plates and utensils, clothing, told us
cameras, radios, and our dog Rusty
aren’t allowed.
I’ll wear my Sunday dress, hat and coat
over a couple of housedresses,
pack my grey sweater, nightgown,
unmentionables. Find room for
my Bible, our wedding portrait
and tuck in dignity, patience—
gaman.