COTTON
COTTON
I found your lucky T shirt
at the bottom of a musty pile
spilled out over a faded blue tarpaulin
in the hot rear parking lot
of a store I rarely visit.
I was tempted by the hand written signs.
“Sunday sale.” Five dollars for all you can stuff in a hefty bag.
But after a few minutes of fevered digging
I emerged with your shirt to show.
Your shirt
and all of that luck it brought you
in your glory days
from seventeen to twenty three.
All of those tremendous firsts and lasts
that only your shirt was there to witness.
Well worth the price if you ask me.