I opened up a box.
I found some cords for something. They’ve got to be for something.
Here’s a button-down shirt I got six years ago.
The Cards fell behind by a run.
They fell behind to Chicago.
And speaking of baggage:
What about this book?
Should I carry it on? Would I read it then?
Should I leave it?
When I sort through my possessions, I try to ask:
Do I like what I see?
Not at Wrigley, I know.
But the game continued.
My computer froze, locked into some frame.
I moved along, shaking papers into a bag.
Some things I don’t want to bring, but I can’t bear leaving them.
It’s the in-between.
I checked on baseball.
The Cards had jumped ahead.
Seems it went on whether I saw it or not.
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