From Autumn Opens a Door, a poetry collection published fall, 2015.
She was left-handed
carrying a suitcase. That’s all I knew
and with that to go on
I wasn’t going to get far.
I could rule out
the children getting on the bus
the workman in a hard hat
the dog on a leash;
but not that woman with the red hair
or the one with the sparkly ring on her thumb
or the short one with swollen ankles.
Any one of them could be left-handed. How can I know
unless I can get every lady I meet to give me
The suitcase is a useless detail. It is too easy
to ditch luggage pretty much anywhere.
I don’t even know how big a suitcase
or what color. I need more details.
I need to stop