I keep a bathing suit in my car.
I never know when a tsunami might ensue
or a storm will erupt so there it stays
for a rainy day.
Next to the blanket I have tossed
in the trunk a few months earlier
if my bones ever began to shake
I know I will be safe.
You taught me to be prepared for anything.
To only wear shoes that could  
Hold you up in quicksand.
You prepared me to sprint miles next to you
and though I am set for the worst
I am running alone.