Mary Poppins

I've lost too many necklaces

All that remains of my own
bracelet similar to this one
is Mary Poppins, a little the
worse for wear. Aren't we all?

in too many moves
with too many hings
distracting from the care I should have given them.
Gifts of love that touched my heart,
carelessly neglected until chains grew snarled,
entwined with random contents in a drawer,
left behind by accident along the edge of
carpet where my dresser once belonged.
Now I wear such charms around my neck
together where there is no need for them to
wait and tarnish in a jewelry box until I think
to pull one out. A ball and glove for happy
hours watching games or playing softball with
the ladies up in Lillington; a tiny bell that said
good-bye;; my high school flute; frilly cross
the elders gave me when I left for college.
There's a golden mother's heart
with four birthstones for my children,
"I love you Mom" from Becky that last
Christmas we were whole. A tiny silver
typewriter signifies the love of writing
and the newest charm is very old: the Mary Poppins
from a Disney bracelet I had that when I was nine,
treasured remnant found while looking through
my mother's sewing box. My third grade teacher
fussed at all the racket from the bracelet
dancing up and down upon my desk as I
practiced cursive writing. She is dead, I'm sure,
and cursive writing's on its way, but Mary
Poppins lives once more. I think it's time to
find a bracelet again to celebrate with
clanging jingles, raise some eyebrows,
make too much noise, and resurrect
the art of handwriting and childhood magic.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013