If I had
any wisdom
I’d put it in a plastic bag
After wrapping it
in baking sheets
and taking off the tag
I’d seal it in
my proven method
all air pushed out for good
Your name writ large
and legible
so not easily misunderstood
I would await on you
in the window
worrying my pitching arm
Dreaming back
to playground days
where there was little care for harm
And there you’d wave
to your morning bus
ready to laugh and learn
Clean in hair
and fresh of lungs
not knowing how a heart can churn
My throat would be
a careful drop
so I could hide inside my length
Consumed by pity
and with despair
a river’s cold against upstream strength
I would turn my head
before you go
can’t bear to watch you see
The only sense
I had to offer
was just some collection of Lipton tea