My Bag

My pocketbook must weigh a ton;
It’s furrowing my shoulder.
I wish that I could carry less
Since I am getting older.

I try to winnow down my load,
But it’s all stuff I need.
If I took just one item out,
I’d miss it, guaranteed.

My wallet’s first, with bills and coins,
My cards for credit, plus
Some discount plastic and
A Metrocard for train or bus.

My cellphone’s next with business cards
Which nestle in its case;
A make-up bag with items used
For touch-ups on my face.

Another pouch holds several pills –
Like Advil and Aleve;
Some cough drops, band-aids, tweezers
And some more you’d not believe.

A tissue pack is vital and
A book for taking notes;
Assorted pens and pencils
To keep track of anecdotes.

A calendar to write down dates
And, naturally, my keys;
Receipts and crumpled hand-outs
Add some bulk in small degrees.

What’s really most amazing,
As I schlep this bag around,
Is that men don’t carry anything –
A mystery profound!