Poem: A Flight of Stuff

by Bob Schwartz

A Flight of Stuff

Simple enough
Pack and go.
But what was this airport?
People I knew
And strangers
And strangers I knew.
Narrow passageways
And great halls.
Why was my stuff unpacked
And whose stuff was it anyway?
My companions had headed for the gate.
What time was the flight?
So many bags
So much to review and repack
Or leave behind.
This and this,
I remember this
But this, this,
What is it?
What does it do,
What would I ever had wanted with it?
Had the flight left?
Concerned but not panicked
A whisper of sadness.
The more I looked around
The more there was.
Where was that flight going anyway?
Why had they left me alone
Behind with this stuff?

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