It's Late

the suitcase laid on the bed, unpacked,
a boarding pass, a stack of technical papers and
the conference schedule scattered across the dinette.
it’s time to get ready, instead I toss and turn in
bed, sheets wrapped around my body like a mummy
wrapped for burial, a sense of dread envelops me.
anticipation of travel, airplanes, strange hotels,
unknown roads, leaving my garden, my friends,
all that is familiar, entering conference rooms
overly air conditioned, full of faceless, nameless
men who all seem to know each other, all these
fears whirl around me in the darkness like ghosts.
when the sun rises, the bags are packed, I’m excited
to fly off to meet new people, drive unknown roads
and sleep in clean hotel rooms.