A pack
is not built for
emptiness.
His purpose: to
bear my cargo
into the wilderness.

Within his walls of
green rip-stop
everything I need
for days will fit.
For those precious escapes
a few times a year,
he’s yet to let me down.

His passion
is reliability, never
to falter through rough
crags. Never to
shift weight crossing
well thought out rapids.

Abused and well worn
he does not
weaken; he’s made to
be indestructible.
Seventy days solid
could not break him.

And never once a sign
of complaint, never once
breaking in surrender.

Oh, my green and black
companion.
Empty now
he sits in darkness,
awaiting the next canyon.

09/11/2003

Posted on 10/28/2004
Copyright © 2024 S. Pelham Flood