Accounting

There will come a day

when I will empty my pockets,

pile the treasures that I carry

on the table next to my bed,

or perhaps in the basket

by the window (even if I

must first evict the cat).

There will be smooth stones

from the beaches of my childhood,

leaves pressed between

the pages of a book,

a silver coin with an imprint

of the Buddah – where did

that come from? I can’t

remember now, but it has

jingled among the pocket

change of my life for

many years.

There are always acorns

in my pockets, too,

so glossy brown and

finely sculpted that

I cannot help but stoop

to pick them up.

But on this day, I will pluck

the lint from my treasures,

nestle them in a pile,

and with thoughts

of rocky beaches and

forest floors...

...I will walk away

from this life with

empty pockets.