the old suitcase

peculiar thing,
the suitcase in my vestibule
picked up for five at a sale.
crocodile embossed-
dull’d brass hardware and
faded Samsonite label.
it opens to a puckered lining
and grosgrain ribbons,
hidden pockets.
in its spot, it is chockfull
of memories: letters tidily
batched and tied.
in old movies, it sits on settees
as silky unmentionables are
folded in slippery piles.
only to be turned topsy turvy
when pulled up by its handle
to move toward a destination.
peculiar thing- this suitcase.
seemingly structured,
yet rather a jumble,
when destination is gotten to
and right sided,
contents have shifted.

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