Ode to an Antique Suitcase
Oh, brave soldier of the world, how
you have been beaten and abused
by sojourns into unknown realms, dragged
behind exhausted wanderers,
kicked beneath hotel beds, tossed upon
the tops of bus racks, dropped down staircases,
slammed against others beneath the airless
storage compartments of airplanes.
Your canvas exterior
is grizzled and frayed, bearing
faded stickers
like medals of honor, proof
of brave entry into Singapore and Geneva,
Barcelona and Sao Paolo,
Tokyo and Timbuktu. Your brass
corners are tarnished and dented
as scar tissue. Your yellowed silk
lining is abandoning its proper placement
like hair on a balding head.
Your leather handle is gnarled
as arthritic hands, latches as untrustworthy
as an old man’s knees.
My dear companion of wayward roads,
how you have weathered storms,
born indignity grit and grime and mud.
You have earned this reprieve, this chance
Retirement upon a shelf. Stand battered
and proud, evidence that distances
may be spaned, that there can become here,
that journey itself
is the point. Keep watch, friend,
over the settled and sedate,
and gently scold them, become
a reproof of stasis, an acknowledgement
of their secret longing
for places not yet been.
________________________
Note: This poem was written in response to @Lee_Rudolph's prompt, "antique suitcase."
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The Poetry Project
PoetryThe Poetry Project was ongoing from early 2013 through April 30, 2014. It invited readers to submit prompts, which I turned into poems. The prompts were quite varied and let me stretch my skills, like doing calisthenics. The project is over, but th...
