Weightless

He is weightless now. You could say he is free
But he would not.
He carries nothing. He travels alone.
He has no suitcase. Once long ago he did, and
it was sturdy and polished and shined bright
so he threw it out.
Now he keeps whatever his hands can hold
and goes.
You might see him come sometime. You will, but
you won’t see him stay.
When he
collects too much for his hands to hold,
he leaves
and he is so weightless
that you will not hear him go.