One Man Crew
 
With three of us at hand
money was worth something.
I spent time in childhood,
collecting memories in a little purse,
saving up enough adolescence
to buy myself into adulthood.
It was a journey on wheels.
Then he passed the keys to me.
We became a two man crew
with shared interests. A bond.
When she had paid her price
I began to use up my savings.
Now I’m a one man crew.
It’s not the same. The cost is high.
I shake my head like a money box
as I look for my precious coins.
 
Susan Wilson

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Susan Wilson   would be pleased to hear them