These are your instructions Should you choose to follow Sit down with pen and paper Begin with something hollow Like the last words that he offered No kind of explanation They only take up space here You do not need to save them Open up the closet Find his winter coat there Check inside the pockets Find a crumpled note there It says milk and Sunday paper And a heart smudged in blue ink Fold it up and box it before youve time to think Sundays are the hardest Avoid familiar back roads Erase the old phone numbers Delete all the photos And those you havent heard from Will come as no surprise They made their calculation When they chose a side These are your instructions When you become reclusive When old friends say they miss you When sleep becomes elusive Fill up every journal Empty every shoebox Burn the lists and letters Sweep out all the old thoughts Shake off all the covers Throw every window open Stand here in your bare feet Welcome in the morning These are your instructions When grace has left you stranded When you are lost and wounded Bleeding and abandoned Use a tourniquet for pressure Let time do its healing Say prayers for good measure When you think youve lost all feeling Now walk into the guest room The last place he was sleeping See the outline on the pillow Smooth it without weeping One last final walk through Now move the bags and boxes From front porch onto back seat Haul away the losses These are your instructions If you choose to follow Stop and take a big breath Begin with something hollow...