in line at the post office with
my one
box
being sent to Bangor, Maine,
to an old girlfriend
who broke my
heart,
i feel
nostalgic
for Christmas.
music is playing,
the clerks
are wearing Santa hats.
i try to shake myself out
of this
sentimentality, but i can't.
the woman
in front of me
is wearing a long red
coat with a white
scarf,
there's tinsel in her hair,
and she smells of cookies
and cinnamon.
she's holding
a tin.
i want to ask her what kind,
but don't.
you can't do that anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment