The Yes Places

For me there have always

been the yes places

I know them before I

get there

I am always on the

slowest train to yes.

I know the yes places

will receive me as

well as I have mapped

them in my heart.

They always do.

There are, of course,

others. How the thread

unwinds, tangles.

When I leave something

behind in a yes place—

a gold ring, a book,

a lover, say—

the yes places never mind.

They fold my lost things,

over and over, until they

disappear, until their shapes

no longer appear on

my heart's map and

I can trace each skyline

as I please.

It's wise to pack light,

the yes places say.

The dark will find you,

wherever you roam.

Latch the suitcase.

No need to bring

anything from home.