Eric Ashford | + Follow Poet |
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Packed For Success

I pack the backpack
then empty it
count again what I need,
discard the unlikely,
the unnecessary accessory.

I pack the backpack
shoulder it,
adjust the straps
remember to add a useful thing,
unpack and repack,
try to balance the weight,
smooth the angular,
tighten the loose.
Once again 
add another small but 
just maybe item
to the survival kit in the backpack
which I have just repacked.
I open the backpack
unpack just enough
to add to the survival kit.
I forgot to pack rope,
It’s a must-have necessity.
I pack the rope.

This is a metaphor poem,
possibly a cautionary tale,
or an instructional manual.

I remember just in time
that I have left the instruction manuals
for the battery operated can opener,
the outdoor fire lighter,
the camping stove,
and a sharpening tool
on a small folding chair.

I gather the manuals up,
pack them,
try to pack the small folding chair,
decide I will have to carry it separately.
The backpack is back over my shoulder,
above that a rolled up pup tent.
The camping chair is in my left hand,
in my right hand a sturdy hiking stick.
Climbing boots and cleats affixed.
I go to the door to leave.

I can’t open the door
too much gear to go through
I may have to squeeze out sideways,
but now I can’t turn the door handle or lock,
too much in my hands.
I will have to unpack.
Turns out
metaphors are a heavy lift.

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