just a quick walk,
two blocks east—
that little bookstore
on the corner
I close the door,
step into the sunshine
walking shoes sturdy
against the pavement
down one street,
turn left—
music thumping
from car stereos
it’s hot now,
my hatless head baked
like oven-fresh bread,
I stand, hands on hips
the bookstore should be
on that corner,
but there’s only a salon,
Janie’s / Jenni’s
I can’t read the words,
so I cross the street—
a horn honks
making my heart stutter
another turn,
another strip of pavement,
feet stumbling
someone takes my arm
Hey, Mom. Let’s get you home;
my cheeks flush hot with shame.
Arvilla Fee, from Dayton, Ohio, has been published in numerous presses, and her poetry books, The Human Side, This is Life, and Mosaic: A Million Little Pieces are available on Amazon. Arvilla’s life advice: Never travel without snacks. To learn more, visit her website and her new magazine: https://soulpoetry7.com/
