Shopping is a Mood

My cart stopped.

I loosened my grip on the handle.

There before me was the most beautiful blue sweater hanging on the rack.

Then it wasn't.

Who was this random woman stealing my joy?

Waiting.

Then, relief as the fuzzy blue garment was rehung.

Mine.

More browsing.

Relaxing while perusing colorful used clothing.

Imagining the lives the pieces had.

Collecting my finds.

Checking out, inspired by my scores.

Back to real life.

This poem is about: 
Me
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