No
Suitcases Needed
Dad
pointed to the luggage
I had just carried in
to visit him at my sister’s in Nebraska.
“They’re nice.” It was his way
of making conversation.
All he knew was right in front of him.
He didn’t remember raising
my four sisters and me
in Pennsylvania countryside,
working hard in the steel mill,
or hunting and fishing
to fill our table with wild game
and home-grown vegetables.
I smiled sadly at the suitcases,
a symbol his departure was near.
I had just carried in
to visit him at my sister’s in Nebraska.
“They’re nice.” It was his way
of making conversation.
All he knew was right in front of him.
He didn’t remember raising
my four sisters and me
in Pennsylvania countryside,
working hard in the steel mill,
or hunting and fishing
to fill our table with wild game
and home-grown vegetables.
I smiled sadly at the suitcases,
a symbol his departure was near.
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