POCKET SHRINK

Thoughts in a Doctor's Office

When I was seven I received
a small, green purse
with a sharp click
velvet soft and smooth as a cat.
I felt grown-up
with important possessions
to be taken with me everywhere.
This pretend
brought comfort
as if within my velvet purse
were tools
to navigate the world.

Many purses on
the memory visits me
as I wait for a doctor with numbers.
Numbers that will take you away from me.
On my lap, a satchel purse full of life supports:
money and cards, lipstick and comb
a passport in its secret place.
I wrap my arms around my purse
hold it close for comfort.

Bridget Harwell