Seen a Town, Squeaky Suitcase

That squeaky suitcase has seen a town or two,

a weary, well-worn traveler

accustomed to the roads

and rows of all customs;

this stuttery suitcase has strolled

through

a town or ten,

gravel avenues

and asphalt paths,

a sun above

skies gray or blue,

a tin roof

rattling in a breeze

or shingles

collecting leaves,

this suitcase

keeper

has tumbled through

a town or two,

just

dipping their toes

into the surface lives of the dew dwellers,

getting acquainted with the sunrises

on speckled horizons

long enough to chase them

’round the globe

glowin’ up

livin’ in the moment

takin’ my squeaks and stutters

for marks

of prosperity,

letting the new lands know

with the rolling echoes

I am here

I was there

I’m movin’ on

hear this song;

I’m doing well,

how are you,

tired of this tepid town too?

Then pack your bags

and come along,

two wide-eyed, eager travelers

leading songs

of plenty

on their

squeaky journey.