The Suitcase

Back then, we had a theory.
We thought that a suitcase
was easier to get into cars
than a rucksack and thus,
drivers were more likely
to pick up hitchhikers
with a small suitcase.
It worked like a dream
and it carried our dreams.

Yesterday
I came across our old suitcase
buried in a heap of debris in my attic.
It was battered from it’s long journeys
and even longer vacation.
Its clothing was torn
exposing its cardboard credentials.
I haven’t opened it yet
so it’s unclear
if it’s still full
or if it’s empty.

Once we packed it full
of our dreams,
but now
I wonder
if any remain,
caught in the lining perhaps,
or if they’ve all have been carried away
with our lost memories
or buried in the debris
of the past.


https://thepangolinreview.wixsite.com/mypoetrysite/issue-14-8-january-2020?fbclid=IwAR1ak_eHa7rhaXF5Q9lCJXse57Ct5JQAus3bPDigNE_r-uFqD1_fMFTXIjg




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