A poem a friend of mine wrote on exactly what it means to pack.
Today, I am packing suitcases.
Cramming my bags full of t-shirts and trinkets,
Packing my life into three blue suitcases
That are torn and dingy from so much traveling.
The bags are filled to the top, but the rest is what’s important:
All of the things I decided that I will live without:
That just aren’t important enough to shove in a bag.
(Cover image by drewcoffman on flickr)