Poet Commentaries

Packing Love

I wanted fulfill.
Pressed down brimming,
unclasped belt

and lots of labels
from less travelled
exotic places;
like Home.

To explore there,
finding the path to
hidden enclaves;
perhaps Creak and Rock
on front porch
where there is no
sunrise or sunset.
No harp.

I would blaze ahead
pulling the carry on
yielding a machete
to clear a path
hoping one day
you’d pack proper shoes.

There an unclasping.
Zippers that groaned
when packed
have zippy yeah song
and awe when opened.
Spilling out…
the content of love.

You rummage through
to find silk cliches,
a little miffed
that I packed
my socks and underwear
and new shoes for you.

my daughter’s Ken doll
in the Barbie bin
stark naked

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