Thrift Sale

The annual thrift sale at the Church

Thrift sale

Treasure hunting in the church

Smells of must and of old

Creaking stairs

The ladies all smile and glow

Their steps have spring

Young lady deep within brought to surface

Time will run out, clock hands spinning

Midnight chimes, with magic submerged

Time has come back

Youth and vigour confined

 

Beads and shiny bobbles to catch your eye

Dime store, diva like

Yester year’s 80’s

The “Hustle” long gone

Racks sagging with yesterday’s clothes

Swim suits beside snow suits

Ominously arresting to the eye

Coasters and spoons a witness to travel

Empty boxes and trash

 

Mildew,

The smell of lurking treasure

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Good description of thrift Sale. Your description rebirth the odor of old things nobody wants any more. Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote

[Maddie:]]

i like it:] even if its only written about a thrift sale, it's a beautiful piece and well written. nice job!!