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.