Old Things

And there you are in the shop,
another old thing on display
with the other things no longer needed
or wanted, or perhaps let go
in a fit of financial desperation.

Not quite perfect,
your age and wear evident,
waiting
for someone to find you
and declare you perfect

again.

About this poem.

I took this picture at Gringo Jack’s months ago, waiting for its poem to emerge. And this morning finally, it did.

Tom