Lost Luggage

The dream starred me and adult kids, away
by bus to train to plane to spend a week
specifically in Paris. But the day
we left I left aboard a bag I’d seek,
unable to retrieve without delay.
I’d travel with a task undone and pique,
and have to shop a lot. It was a drag.
I needed to remember that red bag.

(Ottava Rima)

This entry was posted in Aging, Personality, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment