An incredible adventure of lost airline luggage.
|I was minding my business as luggage will do
in the hold of a jet on the way to Peru.
Cozied up to a duffle bag resting my pack,
I was grateful and glad that I soon would be back.
Thirty six thousand feet, I was ready to nap
when a jolt jarred my life like a great thunderclap.
And the air rushed outside—decompression on high
as the cargo door blew and I fell through the sky.
I was luggage in rave in my four minute drop;
ocean splashing inglorious my bellyflop.
Yet at least I was living, since I was made right
as the seams ‘round my body were all watertight.
Then I floated for days on a westerly route;
once a dolphin broke waves and I patted her snout.
I thought back to the day when LA set me free,
but now I was mere flotsam adrift on the sea.
When an island appeared I felt overly grand;
lapping waves grounded me with my side in the sand.
Mighty Samson was I as I baked in the sun;
I looked high for some coconuts but I saw none.
Soon a band of baboons came and dragged me away
and I saw many monuments, some charcoal gray.
Then I knew Easter Island was where I had come;
the baboons tossed me silly till I became numb.
(I give kudos to all who constructed me so;
I was tossed from high cliffs to the granite below.
Savage handling happened at my own expense;
I was humble lost luggage in search of defense.)
Archeologists came to the island one morn
and my will to be luggage was quickly reborn.
I found passage at once on the Beijing Maru
on its way to Shanghai with an affable crew.
Time in China became an enjoyable stint;
I enjoyed all the sights and at times I would squint.
Yet the gaze in the narrow in no way berates;
before long I was back on a ship to the States.
I am back in LA as I wait to go home;
Easter Island and China were places to roam.
Yet in all of my travels, amazement’s still wide;
not a one tried to see what I carried inside.
Writer’s Cramp Co-Winner