Joanna Gilman Hyde

written March 17, 2019

Yesterday morning at 6:00 am

I woke (late) to clean out My Closets

and went through all My Purses

from years ago

and there was My Dear Little Turquoise Satchel

shaped like a settled tear drop

pretty, but totally useless

from that era of Shelburne

whenever it was

whenever it was

when I walked around

and around

dressed in co-ordinated fabrics

supposedly raising a daughter

while my son visited for supper

once in a while

and I slept in My Childhood Bed

with a man I was barely married to

who kept me

on drugs

because I was in love with someone else