In The Bottom Of Her Change Purse Poem by Susan Lacovara

It might as well be her
Not me
Opening fancy bottles of wine
While I make Sleepy Time Tea
After all I would rather watch the grapes grow
So pretty on the vine
And dream of love I gave so true
Than sip her fancy wine

My riches were steeped in honeysuckle kisses
And laughter, the kind they speak of
To keep you knee deep, in stitches
So what is left for me but to curse
My fortune, so simple, but still more ample
Than that of what she counts mighty
In the bottom of her change purse