look in my purse

it was an adventure
to go into my mother's purse.
we'd ask if she had any gum
and she'd say
look in my purse.
I remember it being deep
and wide,
white plastic with a gold
clasp, almost
too heavy to lift.
she slept beside it.
it had long worn straps
so she could lug
it around when shopping.
it seemed bottomless.
gum and candy,
Kleenex. rosary beads.
mints. loose change.
pills of all sorts, floating
free like white
dots.
rings, bracelets, hand creams,
lipstick and mascara.
a ball of keys were in there
too, although what they
went to
who knows. we never locked
the door and we
didn't have a car
for years.
there was iodine and salt
tablets.
band aids. kotex?
an extra set of glasses.
broken frames,
without lenses. rubber bands
and string.
there was a short list
of names and phone numbers.
laminated on a white
sheet of paper.
sometimes there was gum, too.
spearmint,
her favorite.