Day 379

Go and find the place
where you lived your days.
If you look long enough
at the crushed walls, the collapsed
ceilings, you may find one thing
you can take with you, keep
in your pocket:
a stone from a necklace
your daughter wore, a handle of a cup
you drank from, a piece
of broken glass from a window
where you sat and looked out
at the street, the passing seasons.
If you look long enough at the remains
of your life you will find your children
sitting again at the table, your parents
talking to each other at the end
of the day, your wife
tired, just come in
from her work, your grandmother
in her chair in the corner of the room, 
reading or sewing. Why among all these
have you been the survivor? The
one who searches? The teller of stories?