A big bag

I misplaced a big bag,
I’m sure they gave me one
when he arrived,
the kind that holds
aches and coughs
and knee scabs.
For a moment
I thought I might be expected
to let him hold onto
these ailments,
these inconveniences,
these rituals of sorrow.
But I’m much happier
to carry them
if it’s all right,
in that bag,
if I could only find it,
it is so big
you can’t miss it,
it could fit
a life.