Thrift Shop

I descend clutching a
teetering banister to the
bowels of this holy place.

A sign welcomes me to
St. Mary’s Basement Boutique
where scent of unloved
clothing assaults me.

I finger grubby blouses
and skirts hanging limp
week after week unwanted.

Where is it? Hidden beneath
mounds of faded tee shirts?
Where is that swag I will
brag on for months?

At last I uncover something
beyond belief….a mohair sweater
snow white with pastel flowers.
A good fit, my prayer answered.

Retired ladies glance up.
They are volunteers filling
another empty afternoon.

The cashier consults her price list.
“One dollar” she says as I reply with
quick “thanks” fleeing blissfully.

When I get home, my bonanza
is baptized in cool water and suds
now reborn, lustrous and all mine.

When I Was New

When I was new
and the world was new.

So many roads to wander
under a cerulean sky.
Forbidden fruits to savor,
forbidden lips to taste.

Full of promise, flowers
budding on the vine.
Their perfume covering
my fingertips.

I hurried through each day
alive with my songs.
The moon rose just for me and
stars burned just for me

Every morning brought
sunshine to my window.
Another day filled with wonder
waiting at my doorstep.

Spring was greener then.
When I was new
and the world was new.

(c) Joan McNerney. All Right Reserved.

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