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Dry Goods Store '62
The scent of linen,
Slacks, creams, leather. Mellow tunes.
Soft muted bustle.
We move promptly to our quest.
In the purse, Mom’s hard won cash.
~
The shoe department...
Always with my size and style.
The well-groomed salesman,
His warm charm sooths my unease
At the cold chrome size device.
~
Brylcreem, tweed, Old Spice.
Soft caring hands hold my feet.
New shoes. Perfect fit.
And now, such memories past
Bring warm solace to my years.
* Reworked version submitted in tanka format.
Copyright ©
Ken Rone
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