To Leave

“For Amy, in case we have to leave” on

a wrong-end-opened envelope, empty.

In case we have to leave, 

though Amy just came back.

I used to leave last but life changes. 

(I used to hang coats up for strangers).

In case we have to leave, to flee

in case we have to jetset like it’s nothing

In case the whole project of our lives

was off the on wrong foot to begin with

and Amy had to deal with it, and we didn’t

we left. People leave. In my life, sure, they’ve left.

Amy left and and boxed it as she went

the letter container that leaned towards the leaving,

Or feared it? What Amy would be left with?

a house, old clothes, trash, too many books

debt, an old computer, broken printers

obsolescence from tech to flesh

with feelings left loose in the house,

please, please, get free of this blue building

the last step towards forgiveness,

for us all.

But I digress. In shredding papers there I saw,

the note. The plan. The end of the escape.

The dailies of the dog. The food, the walks, the vet.

And I guess that after all, it was Amy who up and left.