I found your Ohio Auto Club card
on a sidewalk in Portland, Oregon,
one afternoon in September, not far
from a rose garden where I shared
coffee with the man I loved before
saying good-bye. Even the swollen
white roses could tell there was no
point, no purpose. I don’t know
why I picked up your card, except
I was taking little with me at the time.
The weekend seemed to be expanding.
I thought that Monday morning,
I would phone the auto club,
tell them your card had been found.
Instead, I carried it in my purse
for two years, perhaps as proof
that someone else traveled
the same road, and kept moving.