The Purse

Posted on February 18, 2013 by

A purse snaps shut
in finality.  Nothing can enter
or leave.  I look closely
at people with pursed lips–
thin, rigid–and wonder
if this is what my mother
meant when she told me
not to make faces
because they could freeze
in place.

 

Written for:  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com
                        Free verse

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About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, NY. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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6 Responses to The Purse

  1. brenda w says:
    February 19, 2013 at 3:03 am

    This is a fantastic exploration of that age old momism. Well done!

  2. Green Speck says:
    February 19, 2013 at 5:49 am

    Wow … you delve so deep into this !!!

  3. Myrna Zach says:
    February 19, 2013 at 6:04 pm

    not true – I constantly put things in my purse and they are never there when I open it.

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