I used to hold a backpack fantasy:
a dream that I could carry as I go
the several things that mean the most to me
for, needing little, what I need I know.
I had to put that fantasy on hold,
for holding onto it was just too tough
when I, with kids and spouse and house, was rolled
in nested atmosphere amid their stuff.

A revelation opened in my mind
a couple days ago, and now I see
the path to leave encumbrances behind,
to jettison the junk and shake me free:
for they are launched and I, no longer chained,
am portable and nearly self-contained.