Lost Luggage


They connected as easily
And unassumingly as a blue wave
Which had bobbed him along
On an airtight rubber raft
As he dreamed of sailing
South Pacific. Until he got tangled
Held hostage by a red buoy
Something inflatable…
Upon closer inspection
On a flat tidal beach
It was rather fine luggage
Swiss. Totally waterproof
Locked. Plastic tag with a name
Nondescript. Nancy J. McNee
A blurred street address
Somewhere in Poughkeepsie, NY
Which he deciphered, then wrote…

Returning your luggage…
Found at sea…

Puzzling over it all awhile
He hoped Nancy J. ‘whoever’
Was safely home. And forgot her.
Until her small parcel arrived
A glass paperweight
‘Schooner under glass’
She had written neatly
How had she guessed?
Tagged him for a dreamer
Nancy J. ‘Mc-whatever’
Seemed to know a lot more
Than most people did of him
She urged him not to worry
(As though he had been…)
Assuring him she was quite well
As was her indestructible red luggage
Which had gone astray months ago
On the way to Penn Station

‘I’ve never been to sea’

The back and forth began
A few little things in the mail
He wasn’t exactly imaginative
With words or gifts. Hoped she liked
A paperweight with two butterflies
And French words, under glass

‘réservé  à deux’

It must have meant something
She returned him two tickets
For a play somewhere Off Broadway
In late May. On the ‘off chance’
She suggested he might want to go
Assuming he was available

Nothing about being ‘interested’
Or willing. He laughed.
And began to imagine her
No social media. She insisted
Age. No matter. She dismissed
’40 is the new 50…isn’t it?’
And asked him to keep an eye out
For a woman with a distinctive air
Of sunshine. Wearing lime green

You will know me. I am buoyant.

© 2013 S. Michaels
Blank Canvas
Seven Love Stories – Hugo & Nancy J.

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