At the thrift shop the ladies eddy and swirl
around racks of newly brought out winter coats
scarves and hats dragged out to the sidewalk
on this unseasonably hot day. A woman I recognize
pulls her long car up to the sidewalk, a regular
about whom something is slightly off, calls out
in her over-familiar way to the volunteers
I haven’t been coming because I miss my husband.
I just wanted to let you know. Has he died then and
left this somewhat confused woman on her own?
How and what will she do?
I realize with regret that I’ve steadfastly avoided
her friendly chatter in the past simply because she’s odd.
I feel the chill of shame even under this wool coat
on this unseasonably hot October day.
