My Suitcase
It took a week for me to pack,
For, wracked with indecision,
I wanted to be sure each day
I’d have the right provision.
The pants, the skirts, Capris and tops,
The sandals, dresses, make-up,
The jewelry and lotions,
All prepared for every wake-up.
I’d zipped it up, ensuring that
I’d covered all the bases
And checked it in where it was stacked
With all the other cases.
Alas, it never made it through
And, though the airline tracked it,
It’s in another place, despite
The care with which I’d packed it.
I’m making do with what I wore,
With just a nightly rinsing.
To never check a bag again?
I do not need convincing.
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