Valise

I kept the small case near my side

as the road bent through its off‑season turns.

Some days it felt light enough to forget,

other days it pressed against my stride

as if it had gathered the weight of the week.

I never checked what shifted inside.

It was enough that it stayed with me,

a kind of steadying presence

when the path narrowed

or the dusk settled early.

Once, at a long descent,

the case seemed larger than before,

its corners brushing my knee

as though it had grown to match

whatever I could not yet speak.

Yet, I carried it forward,

letting its shape adjust

to whatever the day asked.

By evening it rested beside me,

still, unchanged,

scoping the next leg of the road.

.