I wandered into a
Slightly shabby neighborhood late
One lazy autumn afternoon,
And found the Goodwill Store.
I stood just inside the doors
For those first few moments,
Allowing my eyes to adjust to the fluorescent haze.
An eclectic mix of shoppers traversed
The crowded, jumbled aisles of merchandise.
Harried young mothers surveyed piles
Of children's clothing, contemplating meager budgets.
Retirees hunted for elusive bargains
Amidst the mounds of donated toiletries,
As teen-age girls giggled and tried on
Some well-heeled matron's discarded finery.
Earnest young men picked intently through
Racks of ancient golf clubs and fishing tackle,
Aspiring to the leisurely pursuits of the upwardly mobile.
I drifted aimlessly
Through the discarded detritus of
Other people's lives,
And was struck by the notion
Of what stories these sundry objects could tell.
That pile of unused party invitations -
What happened? Was it called off because of rain?
And those wedding invitations -
Did they elope? Did they break up?
I came to a pile of musty old books -
And in those yellowing pages
I could see the faces of my old friends,
Back in those days long ago when
We'd discuss our favorite passages,
Gossiping about novels like mutual acquaintances,
Comparing notes about our favorites
Over innumerable cups of coffee late at night.
I wonder where they all are now,
Scattered by the winds of time -
I hope they've found new books and new friends.
I spot an enormous stack
Of very old records,
Faded cardboard sleeves adorned with
Famous visages of yesteryear -
The hairstyles and clothing which once seemed
So chic, now so strange, so unfashionable.
I remember slow dancing on
Warm summer nights in another era,
And making tender young love
With these old songs playing on the radio,
A time ripe with promise and
Resplendent with youthful passions,
Before we knew about routines and mortality.
I hope they've found their niches
Somewhere out there in this difficult world -
And not surrendered youth's idealism
To middle-aged cynicism, as so many have.
I bid adieu to my old friends and lovers,
And wish them all a safe passage
As they navigate the straits of experience,
And I hope that,
Like the objects here in
The Goodwill Store,
They have found a new meaning in
Someone else's life.

early October, 1996

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