Small Decisions
A holiday craft fair – I needed a bag.
I’d looked for a while, and that was a drag.
I passed by a vendor – a bag called my name.
It had a few faults; my objections seemed lame.
The straps were too short. It was shaped like a sack;
But it offered more than the things it did lack.
The leather was mushy, so soft to the touch;
I knew that I liked it – was not sure how much.
A discount was offered, the stuffing removed.
When slung on my shoulder, its comfort was proved.
I stood there and held it; the minutes ticked by.
The saleswoman laughed, but no pressure’d apply.
At last I decided I’d spring for the purse;
‘Cause if I had left it, I knew I’d feel worse.
The vendor then asked how I ever decide
If there’s something important from which I can’t hide.
I told her decisions get easy for me,
The bigger they are or they’re seeming to be.
I struggle with small stuff – it’s hard to explain;
But the huge resolutions require no strain.
Yet a purchase when I’m not quite sure how I feel
Somehow seems to appear like a really big deal.
So I’ve got a new bag – what an effort to get it!
My fingers are crossed that I will not regret it!
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