I cried at a yard sale this mornin’.
Flat out bawled in front of a bunch
of bent-backed, soft-hearted strangers
at the senior center the next town over.
I bought a puke green polka dot dress
and a brass elephant for a buck.
I handed out peppermint soap with a smile
and a pile of jigsaw puzzles
knocked a knot in my stomach,
but I kept my shit together pretty good.
‘Till one of them asked about my people
and put her hand on my back.
Right dead in between my shoulders
like my Mamaw used to do,
knuckles knotted with arthritis and memory.
The ghost of a touch turned tears loose
and I choked and swallowed
and smiled some more at a room
full of grannies who can’t compare
and can’t help it ’cause they ain’t her.
Bless their hearts.