a suitcase full of dust

From spot-on primrose at taking a new path:

I would like to leave the suitcase behind me, as if by accident, on a train platform or in a luggage rack. to walk away, my heels clicking on the pavement more and more quickly as I escape un-noticed.

but no, it is labelled with my name. and I remember where I left it. it draws me back. I return to the left-luggage locker, wearily fish the key from my purse, and tug the suitcase heavily to the ground. its handle feels familiar and smooth. it fits my hand all too well.

taking a new path

A suitcase full of dust by Brian Patten.

I packed a suitcase
I put dust in it
And then more dust.
I packed bits and pieces
Of what was still living.

I packed a suitcase
A heart howled inside it.
A face stared up from it,
Its tongue wagging in the dust.

With each passing second
The complaints it made
Seemed more obsolete.
I packed a suitcase full of dust.

I went outside.
I was afraid people would stop me and ask
Why I was travelling about with dust.

There seemed nowhere to go
But to another place of dust…

Swearing fidelity to all
That is clean and free of dust
I pack a suitcase full of dust.

I have been carrying that suitcase for a long, long time. I am so tired of carrying it. I have been filling it up for my whole life with false gods and fears…

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