Red Bag

Red Bag

Red bag (almost brand new)

(found a pair of earrings in the inside pocket /mis-matched and sparkly

 black bag (the one you wore everyday)

red hat lady canvas shoulder bag, purple and red

animal print pajamas you wore as a Halloween costume

scarves silky and sheer

more purses, pocketbooks of all sorts

a woman can never have too many bags you told me once

a leather fanny pack (so old school I can’t part with it/ because they don’t make them like that anymore /and it reminds me so much of you /walking beneath the shade of the trees/listening to your music)

it hurts so much to empty your closet

it’s taken a year poco a poco (little by little)

I gently place your bags in a checkered zippered bag

(because I can’t bear the thought/of putting your things /in a trash bag

to give away to good will)

fancy velvet jacket, soft with bling 

(the scent of your perfume long gone

or I would keep it)

in my heart I hear you tell me

we must move on

Daddy says write a poem to celebrate you / celebrate your life

not mourn you

but today the sun shines brightly and the ground is frozen and dry

such a perfect day for sad lines and wistful sighs of time gone by

I gently place your soft velvet jacket in the big checkered zippered bag

and lay it to rest hoping my sister will rescue it/that I can see it

one day on some fancy occasion (and be reminded of you)

I can’t part with your batas, nope not one of your robes can I part with

 or the last pairs of your chancletas

and that little tiny black and pink bag I gave you with the pink initial M

on the front pocket

(that you loved to keep change in)

I keep that too

still can’t part with your lacey looking flats and the red canvas shoes

and the red bag

(worn and used filled with costume jewelry and fake purple blossoms)

that’s the one I keep.

© 2012 Mariposa María Teresa Fernández