my mother
gave me
my grandmother’s
wallet
when i moved into the old house
the one she
was carrying
when she transformed
from Mabel
to memaw memory
the black
leather relic
contains three things
her final driver’s license
which claims her eyes were grey
and yes, they were
like her granite character
her pristine social security card
what lovely handwriting
the meticulous woman possessed
and in the change pocket
her last tube of lipstick
the color is baby berry
i see her at fourteen
with sweetheart lips
and delicate ankles
her whole life ahead
a white gloved
lady in waiting
i
simply
love that
we came
from
all
that she was