Spotted an old steady
from high school
this morning
barely recognizable
down at the other end
of the stacked high
and narrow isle of
half-priced canned
goods on sale.

A rusty razor-sharp
pop-top can from prom
night 1965 peels open
releasing sweet corsage
aromas of anticipation
with the tingling taste
of first wet-lipped kisses
still perfectly preserved
as if vacuum-sealed in time.

Attention Shoppers:

Emotional spill
on aisle number nine.
Floor extremely slick
with shock, sorrow,
and a flash flood
of what-ifs.

Request for immediate
assistance.

© by Edward Ferri, Jr.
Used with the author's permission.