Dainty handkerchiefs
once secured upon our heads at Mass
girls with no hats
small cut glass bowls
we dug out of oatmeal boxes
almost weevil poor
a beaded party purse
to carry cigarettes and mints
smells lindy like
a pile of vinyl
thirty-threes and forty-fives
black and groovy
in a velvet box
like my own old diamond ring
leftover fireworks
Jane Vincent Taylor is a poet who lives in Oklahoma City and teaches creative writing at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico. Website: janevincenttaylor.blogspot.com.
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