these thrifted items
rows and rows of someone else’s belongings
maybe even some of mine
scattered among dusty memories
I glaze my fingers across the glass
the fabric
the parchment
what stories would they tell?
the teddy bears and toys tug at my heart
those times are gone both in my life and my child’s
why do we stop playing?
lines of clothing that are either too young or too old for me
worn furniture I can’t even afford if I had room for them
I once donated my dusty wedding dress here
the same day I visited my ex-husband in rehab
thrifting to kill time
sifting to find

Set of 6 for $28. Wish I’d bought these…
”why do we stop playing?” Indeed.