This small bag sits,

Upon my shoulder lays the strap,

Secure and safe.

The bag contains artifacts,

The artifacts of my childhood,

Long gone and away,

Never to return.

Beach days,

Hotel stays,

This bag has endured.

Open the bag,

Seek the memoirs,

They have returned.

A small shell remains,

A piece of my heart,

This bag has been with me from the start.


8 thoughts on “Satchel

  1. I have shells, so many of them … from my beach adventures. I love the way you describe your bag ~ I can see it.

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