Went to the suit store

and mom stared at the suit.

“Let your arms hang.”

I turned more than an old spinning top,

“Don’t move.”

Facing to the right, then left.

Salesman sweating,

He’s scared he wouldn’t make the sale,

or get home for supper.

Her head turned sideways,

had me look into the mirror.

I didn’t care anymore.

Though I did like the large blue plaid suit,

and navy pants just high enough

you could see my white socks.

The bottom of the suit

was to touch the curl of your palm.

At least that’s what her sister told her.

Looking back at all the pictures she took

she could have walked by the rack,

pulled off any size and said we’ll take it.