Pockets Eight Dirt or hay, dried grass, remnants of broken toys, tools you misunderstood, fingers digging deeply for something more. Fifteen Pencil erasers, stones from the creek, bones found at the back step, used band-aids, a hole from forced fingers of shyness. Twenty-four Change from a purchase, a wedding ring removed but not discarded, the last love-note received, a reminder that you’re not invisible. Forty-six Folded bills and ticket stubs, from concerts, operas, museums or zoos, a restaurant receipt and the new number for where your kids live now. Sixty-three Stones found at river’s edge, seashells from an abandoned beach,…