"Each canvas pocket emptied of regret." What could be in the pocket that would create regret? That's what stuck out to me.
Empty your pockets. The TSA agent says
sternly, like no one has loved her
ever.
I emptied my pockets, not of Swiss Army knives
or nail files,
but of ink, paint brushes,
and pocket pads of paper with Rose Art designs.
Turning them inside out, each canvas pocket
emptied of regret and thrown out dreams.
Reminding myself, and her,
of the days to come- unopened paint sets,
freshly pressed paper.
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