THIS gentle homily by the American poet Naomi Shihab Nye is not so much an instruction in unsociability as a reminder about life’s priorities. Nye was born in 1952, in Missouri, to a Palestinian father and an American mother. She articulates her experience as an Arab-American through poems about heritage and peace that “overflow with humanitarian spirit.”

THE ART OF DISAPPEARING

When they say Don’t I know you? say no.

When they invite you to the party

remember what parties are like

before answering.

Someone telling you in a loud voice

they once wrote a poem.

Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.

Then reply.

If they say we should get together.

say why? It’s not that you don’t love them any more.

You’re trying to remember something

too important to forget.

Trees.

The monastery bell at twilight.

Tell them you have a new project.

It will never be finished. When someone recognizes you in a grocery store

nod briefly and become a cabbage.

When someone you haven’t seen in ten years

appears at the door,

don’t start singing him all your new songs.

You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second.

Then decide what to do with your time.