
Rummage Sale
The woman in charge keeps her back to the table, the reason everyone has come. Baby clothes. Get there early or they go. Jumpsuits, onesies, bibs and overalls. Mostly yellow, as if she didn't really want to know. Unusual, this restraint, a throwback even. No gender reveal, no party thrown, no extra gifts. Baby Clothes (Unworn). The sign itself (the parenthesis of course) stops me briefly Long enough to lose out to another mother, quicksilver thief. Owner now of something perfect, something imagined Something lost.
4 replies on “Rummage Sale”
This touched me, it speaks to an unbearable and unnameable burden. Thank you, its a beautiful poem.
Thank you so much. I really appreciate your comment. A lot of my poetry speaks to infertility and loss.
Touched me deeply.
Thank you so much.