Suitcase

There’s always
The possibility
Of change
That hoovers
Over your head;
Despite how
Sunny
Things  
May look
Today;
Love can
Wither
Like leaves
Under
The humiliation
Of cold weather
Like anything
Thin
Even paper
Recoils
In the fire
And why
Should I think
That it wouldn’t
Happen to me too
So just the thought
Of being trapped
Has taught me
To always
Keep my suitcase
At the door
In case  
I have to
To make a quick
Get away.