When I was little
I thought my mother’s purse was magic
we sat stuck to a church pew on Sunday morning
and she snuck me Cheerios from a plastic bag

When I was in middle school
I thought my mother’s purse was a nuisance
it smelled overwhelmingly of mint gum
and she slammed it on the table when she got home

When I got to high school
my mother said I needed a purse
she emptied the contents, shoved a penny in the pocket
and pushed it into my arms

When I leave for college
I’m taking my mother's old, worn out, ugly purse
I want to keep her magic, and her mint gum, and her old penny
and feel her perched on my shoulder