Poem 22

Shop

I walked into the shop
to buy a purse that fits
ten folded bills and coins
for the quick trip to church

and back. After combing
all the shelves to find none
that I liked, you walked in
plucking bottles like flowers

that soon laid on the register.
I watched you go back
to friends; stood frozen
on the aisle, unable to solicit

a name or muster a hi; left
with nothing in my basket,
in my hand: not what I wanted,
not what I found.

—Razel Estrella