Affection for Bags, by Heather Simeney MacLeod

Heather was kind of enough to allow me to post her poem "Affection for Bags" which is from her incredible collection, Burden of Snow. Thanks Heather!




AFFECTION FOR BAGS


Friendship at its fullest comes like a big bag,
green, yellow and red-striped with sturdy handles
made of twine like rope, which you fill
with all your expectations and all your experiences.
All the room for drunken nights with weeping,
laughing and the early morning brattle;
room for mistakes, space to lose misdeeds,
miscalculations, the regret of words long ago spoken.

Some friendship fits in small, leather handbags
with embroidered floral designs,
a zip-up bag with a small inner pocket to keep
the heart of yourself away, some space
to meet on common ground.

Love will sometimes come in a leather daypack,
which rests comfortably against your hips and shoulders,
which fits all the parts, leaves no room for the extraneous
and you can carry your love and desire easily without losing
track of yourself and what it is you need.

Obsession comes like lust in the black shoulder bag
with numerous pockets, zippers, and pouches.
It’s the bag where you can’t find anything you’re looking
for, and frustrated you try to keep what you think important
in the front zipped-up pocket, but everything keeps escaping.

Family is always moved to the wallet. You want to keep them
slip them in, photo and all, to their slot. It is a comfort
knowing where they are, how they fit into your life,
how easily you think they can slip out.
Maybe it brings you peace to think you don’t need
them much at all. Maybe it brings you peace
to believe you need them so little you give them
one, slim, slot in your wallet and you
don’t realize how you keep them next to yourself.
Right next, sitting next to, your driver’s license,
your credit cards, your coin and your cash,
and more importantly you slip family next
to the fortune cookie piece of paper you don’t
want to part with; family rests next to your tickets
from the Bif Naked concert; your family nestles
next to one another. It begins with,
This is my boyfriend, moves to, This is my husband,
shifts over to, These are my children.
Who you love the most is kept
in the wallet in the heart of the bag.