On Wheels

Packing for college has made me think. I’m not leaving for long, but I realize that I’ve missed this, the hush of suitcase-slipper wheels on hard floors, the din of imaginary crowds in my head and on the city streets.
This one’s dug up from two years ago, and it says it well: How life sometimes is more together and yet still further apart when you’re walking on suitcase wheels….

A man walking, beautiful how
he has his suitcase by his side
comfortably. Its grip is smooth
and a familiar walking stick
on wheels. He walks, big steps
In a hurry to get somewhere
though he doesn’t know where
he’s going, really, just home.

I miss the walking quickly
when it’s dark and it’s cold
and the man needs his coat
as much as he loves his suitcase.
Sometimes I wish I was the man
in the city – any city, really –
that breathes as a body
is crawling with red ants.

I love the rush you get from
knowing you are completely
insignificant and yet a part
of some phenomenon we call
“The World”, I think. We know
not where we came from or where
to go, but the man is content
to simply fulfill that lust he feels
when sitting still.

M.
Oct 25/13

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