The Wallet

I have it now

The dimpled leather,

The crumpled tab.

It was in the drawer

With an old watch.

It was my father’s.

A cashless wallet.

He held it with his right hand,

Slid it from its woollen berth.

The skin of an animal

Protecting the money.

It was so comforting

To see it displayed:

It spoke of prosperity,

Assurance – and graft.

Now I want to give it back.

To see it in his hand;

See the blue eyes light.




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