June 5, 2016

In Security


I cannot travel
without leaving
something behind,
a favorite shirt
in a hotel closet,
another memory
I'll never find.
I carry hardly
anything anymore,
but still return
with less than before.
In Security, the Agent
tells me to remove my shoes,
to place all my devices
into the plastic bin.
My carry-on shows
where I'm going,
the scanner reads
where my heart
has been.