An Abandoned Suitcase

It happened accidentally, again.
First, the damned thing didn't close,
so I sat on it, as I always do,
jumping up and down,
and just when I thought
the lock had clicked
and dragged it upright,
the overstuffed luggage
swam out.


It covered the floor,
and created a flood.
Mango leave smells
in summer,
grandmother hands,
the glass cutting
through small feet,
spattering red
on the playground green,
warm tongue plays
in love's cold windows,
yellow moon, solitary stars
on the mountain top,
God under the pillow
at night with
ghosts of tumbling hair,
a father's bath lemon
scent; tv in the darkened room,
the swing, the black,
the snow, the melting,
...
then the snow again,
and the flooded room
all around.
I didnot close the suitcase,
I sat and watched the
swirling and whirling
in the water,
as it reached my knees,
It didn't matter today
if I missed the train.
It didn't matter at all,
It was time to rest,
and recollect how far
I had already travelled.
It didn't matter
what I needed to have,
than what I already did.