If Cartage Were Bliss

She packs the same for a month or a day…
For weekends or safaris.
Rather too much than too little,
She says,
But I’m the one who carries.
She packs the same as summering royals,
Or the general staff of the military.
But while they have flunkies to shoulder the goods,
There’s only me to carry.
For ambassadors and missionaries,
Packing to excess is no error,
For posted far for years, they have
A gaggle of baggage bearers.
Carefree once in a shirt and shorts
And a change, I then did marry.
Now she, once free, packs all she owns…
And I, it seems, must carry.