Things We Carry

The Things We Carry
    Books we might never read.
    Papers we think we should read.
    Bills we need to pay.
    A pound of coffee for the brothers
        who always leave their coffee behind
        for me to consume.
    The memories of parents
        of suitcases lost
        in journeys
        from one continent
            to the next.
    The stories of memories
        of baggage passed
        from one generation
            to the next
        of old cars
        finding new homes
        and bags that lose purpose
        when nomads stop being nomads
        and settle
            into middle aged life.
    We dream of getting bills paid,
    of getting all papers read,
    and books finished off.
    Then, a warm cat meows,
    and a new chick is born,
    and we forget to feel the weight
    of the load that we carry
    and live
    like the animals do,
    with each moment anew.