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the salal review
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THE Donation box

Carolyn Caines
Sorting is not easy.
The donation box is waiting.
I know I have too many sweaters,
but what if I need this one?
What if it matches with capris 
I may buy next month?

This jacket is not too warm,
perfect for summer just ahead.
The style is out of date, 
and I never wear that color,
but it still fits. Look at that. 
And I do have shoes to match.

Okay. I must pick one and then
it will get easier, I think.
If I try on each piece, that’s the way.
Jeans too tight? I could lose a few pounds.
Blouse too big? Slouchy is in. Right?
How long since I wore this? I might
choose it someday. It is cute.
Where did this come from? I didn’t know
I still had it. And look, it fits.

Okay. Maybe if I can picture someone
who would really like wearing this shirt.
A slender hand sorts through the rack.
It pulls on the hanger by the sleeve
of my pink, plaid shirt. 
The woman eyes the buttons. All there. 
She squeezes the material. A little wrinkly.
She holds it up under her chin and looks
in a full-length mirror. Hmmm. No smile.
Rejection. Now wait a minute!
I appreciate it more than she would.
This isn’t working.

Sorting is not easy.
The donation box is waiting, still empty.

The Salal Review is published annually by the students of Lower Columbia College enrolled in Arts Magazine Publication. Copyright @2020 and @2021 The Salal Review and the individual contributors. No portion of the publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the express permission of the individual contributor.
 
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