What’s In Your Wallet?

….I have found the suitcase open, collecting snow,

still holding your vade mecum of the infinite,

The Lost Suitcase by Carolyn Forché

It would be nice to have a handbook that contained everything I ever needed to know about anything. I once had a Brownie Scout Handbook. Then a Girl Scout Handbook. Then, much later, a Big Book. But the only thing I could carry with me all the time was “a great big Brownie smile” and I often forgot to put that on. It’s amazing how much stuff I carry around now.  I’m retired now but when I was working I carried:

iPad
iPhone
shampoo
soap
towel
lock
lotion
deodorant
face cream
make-up
hairbrush
comb
wallet
keys
clear nail polish
toothpaste and toothbrush
eyeglasses
sunglasses
bills to pay
checkbook
stamps
return address labels
Oxford Magazine
Advil
Scrunchies
Gym entry card
Diet Dr. Pepper
Knee brace
John left with his keys and a wallet. Why is my life so complicated?

 

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There Are No Trains on Hatteras Island


There are no trains

The only roar comes from the ocean

and it never stops

There are no triathlons

but fishermen stand in the surf for hours

and they never stop

There are no all night diners

but there are rainbows, sunshine

and the wind never stops

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Poem #4

It’s late in the day and
no words have lined up in a way that pleases me.
Nothing created
to speak of.
But I judge myself by my intentions.
and I’ve done no damage
to speak of.

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Poem #3

Notice. Your past comes back to you now
on a warm, moist breeze
cloaked in the smell of clematis
illuminated by the noon day sun.
Your past that you shared
with strangers who have forgotten your name.
Memory is like breath:
I can’t live without it.

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Poem #2

When memories are as transparent as dreams
and intentions as flimsy as those memories
and emotions dart here and there like spoiled children
and the right words never come,
I still begin to write without knowing
where the words will lead me
and when the words will stop
forever.

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Poem #1

20130401-114533April. Again.
Outside my window a gum ball tree
Seed of Aprils past
Reminder of brown army blankets
Flawed fathers.
Bare earth.

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Sadness

Now is not forever.
Young dogs become old dogs.
Rain falls on parades.
Lies catch up with us
Memories fade
Memory fades
and the best intentions go where algebra went

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