Every morning
Seek out what becomes you
And drape it over your shoulders
Like an old fisherman’s sweater.
It may be the memory of someone’s smile
Or the wag of the dog’s white-tipped tail
Or the scent of the sanguine rose cut from your friend’s garden.
Better still
Let it find you.
But either way
Wear this thing that becomes you
All day long.
This is how
You will live in a poem.