You asked me to write a poem about zen pants and serenity sweaters

It was a passing comment between
bathroom & bedroom, you pulled

your shirt over your head, ignoring
buttons, tossing it on a chair, dis-
missing protocol & laundry hampers

adding, Then I’ll know which poem
is for me, and you flopped into bed.

I wonder what else you’ve missed
the trail laid out so carefully before you

no tricks or twists, I thought, only

a well placed chair, clean shirts in the
closet, a soft bed to fall into, a place

to start again.