his suitcase was well travelled
light brown leather that had seen the world
hiding his life in its belly
holding secrets of who he really was behind closed doors
“don’t make ‘em like they used to.”  i offered
standing over my canvas samsonite bag, steady on roller wheels
the old man stood, taking his luggage by the thick handle
without a word he walked away, only the length of a box car

as he sat down on a station bench, he leaned over his suitcase
and as i watched he patted the brown leather bag
while speaking lovingly to it before presenting a light kiss
with closed eyes the old man leaned back and sat still

the blast was tremendous as pieces of leather soared
and some were found hundreds of yards away
the station was demolished, and i had been only a train car awa
so thanks for reading…but obviously i could not have written this