“Get out among people,” I’d been told,
“It will prove to be good therapy.”
Well, for others that advice might hold,
But, certainly, it was not for me.
I drove to Wal-Mart in high season,
Pulling into a rare parking spot.
Christmas shopping was not my reason,
For, still mourning, no gifts would be bought.
Roaming at will, I gave folks the eye,
Not really clear on why I was there.
A woman resembling you passed by,
Wearing your glasses and style of hair.
There was another with your strange gait,
That slight limp, since you’d broken your hip.
Recall how, at curbs, you’d hesitate,
Waiting till you had my hand to grip?
I watched a frail lady in profile –
For a moment that gave me a start.
She had your nose, your chin, and your smile,
Like you, her walker a shopping cart.
And remember those blouses you wore,
With mock turtle necks, so hard to get?
Well, there were some on sale in the store –
Seeing them, I felt my eyes grow wet.
From that point on, a pathetic game,
As I observed women in the crowd,
Looking for features that were the same.
No more of that therapy, I vowed!
© By RickMack (email@example.com)