Wallet

I found a wallet

I found a wallet

inside were pictures of your small family

you were so young

your hair dark brown

you had been born in nineteen fifty-three



your winter birthday

was stamped on the plastic

of a license so recently expired

I was so tired

as I walked through my door

I laid all the contents of your wallet on the floor



and like a holy relic

or a mystery novel

I thumbed them in the dim light

searching for a clue

a blockbuster card

an old stick of juicy fruit

a crumpled receipt

from a pair of leather boots



I have no wallet

I have no wallet

I keep my cards together with a blue rubber band

and with a free hand

I search in my pockets

for pieces of, pieces of paper and change



I'll take your wallet

to my local blockbuster

they'll find your number

in their computer

you'll never know me

I'll never know you

but you'll be so happy

when they call you up