In a Suitcase

This is a poem celebrating the true story of how my wife came to Australia.

In a Suitcase

Life lived in a suitcase

is a life of mishandled baggage – 

a carousel of sorts,

a never ending journey.

But to travel on the high seas

is a mobile destination

never arriving: Already there.

A room with a view.

In Copenhagen they adore

a little matchless girl

without peer.

A waif

stepped off a wharf

and wrapped

like a bread roll in tissue

set sail for a rendezvous

in Port Phillip:

A netherland – neither land nor ocean.

Her beauty captured hearts

and romanced the one true love …

Of dreams and stuff.

From ship to shore

she stepped –

a babe in arms –

captivating like a rhymer by a fireside.

Trunks

Packing crates

Portmanteaux

A crate for a crib.

From ship to shore

unclogged

by clutter thrown overboard.

She put her best foot forward

took his face in both hands

and blew a kiss across the candles

of time (for all the birthdays missed)

until

assured

she settled into an embrace

of certainty

and shed

the skin of freight;

the woman

who came

in a crate.

Phillip Reed

April 2017