On Travel: That Look We Exchanged
After filling my backpack
with a few generations
of chargers and wires,
and two different types
of plugs,
…after winnowing out
my t-shirts and jeans
but still having to kneel
on top of the carry-on
to close it,
…after then arguing about
her insistence upon taking
one additional suitcase,
which would have to be
checked,
I’ll admit to the existence
Of a moment
when we both were wondering
why
we undergo this.
* * *
And then, after printing out
the evening’s boarding passes,
plus the schedule
for the additional flights
this meshuga trip will require,
…and thinking about
all the reservations
we had made,
…and worrying about
all the reservations
that remain to be made,
I’ll admit to the existence
of a moment
when we could see
in each other’s eyes
the desire just to stay
home.
* * *
Aware, in addition,
that this extended journey
would require
continual schlepping
among airports, hotels, restaurants, sights and
even a stranger’s apartment,
…and aware that our energy levels
have declined some,
…and aware, indeed, that such tasks
as finding our way
and schlepping suitcases
have grown more difficult
over the decades,
I’ll admit that the look
we exchanged,
at that moment,
was filled with
both exhaustion
and trepidation
about the exhaustion
to come.
* * *
And aware that
we will be leaving behind
a life
in an entirely adequate apartment,
equipped with all the chargers
we require,
and all the clothes
we need,
all of which are readily available
in drawers and closets,
…and aware that we live in
a city with which we are
in no way
bored,
…and aware, too, that
we will be leaving behind
a person or two who might benefit
from the presence of one or the other of us,
I’ll admit that
we both understood
that behind that look
we exchanged
at that moment
was the impulse,
an insistent impulse
to abandon
this whole crazy, difficult journey.
But then we corralled the three rollaboards,
And got into the elevator,
and started walking to the subway
that would take us to the train
to the airport.