Just An Old Shirt
I was cleaning out the closet today and found an old shirt that I no longer wear. Mainly
because it no longer fits. Why I've kept it all these years, I haven't a clue. It just sat
there on the shelf. Minding it's own business. The last time I saw it was when we
moved here 5 years ago. It's not like I will ever be that size again. No matter how
much I wish for it or plan to do something about it. It's not a fancy shirt. It's not even
a special color. I remember that it was very comfortable and it fit me like a glove.
I didn't throw it out right away. I laid it back on the bed along with other items I had
placed there from the shelf. As I wiped down the shelves and replaced articles and
such, in much neater orderly stacks, I avoided that shirt. Finally I was done. I put
away the cleaning supplies and walked up to my bed. There was that shirt. I picked it
up, folded it and put it back on the shelf.
I decided that one lone shirt was me, just in a different form. I'm not fancy. My
coloring isn't all that special. I don't fit anymore whereas I was did.
Just like that shirt, I'm a little frayed and well worn and displaced. But, maybe, just
maybe, we might fit one day.
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