December 16, 2012

December 16, 2012

    
I’ll only be a week,
                Five days up north for work,
Astray from home this trip.
At this time of year-       
                Greeting Winter’s solstice-         
My expectations are mired
In uncertainty
                About the weather
                And its fickle swings
                Between cool and cold,
                Between damp and dry,
                Snow and wet slush.
Crisp azure,
Cumulus-speckled,
                Or sticky gloomy skies?
 
So I stuff my big bag,
                The one I have to check:
Five pinpoint oxfords,
Four pair of lined slacks-
                Plain front, breathable wool-
A pair of shined  black Cole Haans
For client meetings.
                Twenty underthings,
                Jeans, short-sleeved Polos,
                Hoodies, three belts, shorts,
                Thirty vintage tees,
                Pounds of black socks,
Nike Shox,
Toiletries for months,
                Two versatile blazers.
 
I’ve booked my return flight
                Out of Philly, Friday,
Not sure that I’ll make it.
Something could arise-
                Mayan Armageddon-
Weather holds, rescheduled trysts,
Lifelong delays.
                Best to over-plan,
                And cram the bag
                And carry-ons too
                For unexpected
                Contingencies.
Well-equipped,
                Prepared:  neat, tight-packed
                For the Apocalypse.