Poem: "The Old Wallet"

The Old Wallet

he cannot see from the surface
of a wealth he cannot keep
--Eavan Boland, “Making Money”

Pocket of pockets, my old wallet keeps
the likenesses of long dead Presidents,
credit card, coins, stamps, memberships,
but not a photograph of love. My reason?
I thought that the mind is a fitter place
for images of illimitable grace.
The old wallet will do for society
but soul resides not in skin but in me.
Yet now I see the mind exchanges love
so easily for venom and forgets
the daily accumulation of its debts
and bad seasons it is a veteran of.
So I am asking for a photograph,
Love, on love’s behalf.—

*

Comments

Eric Norris said…
Pushkin would be proud!

Good job, sir.
Greg said…
Thank you for this poem Jee Leong. I think I've often seen minds exchanging love for venom, which is grieving; I appreciate the way you put that.
Jee Leong said…
Thanks, Eric, for turning me on to Pushkin.

Thanks, Greg, for reading. I needed some way to eject the venom.

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