An Afternoon Trip

He fluttered into the automatic doors along with the rest of the customers.
I saw him while I was on my way to the DVDs, to look for "Rocky."
He wandered through the dollar section, searching, perhaps, for a tin of generic popcorn
Or a box of leftover Easter candy.

Had he come for that?
For food?
Or did he mean to meander to the outdoor furniture and sip soda through a straw
As he leaned back on his wings and crossed one stick-leg over the other?
Or maybe he meant to flip through the stuffed animals to steal a shirt or a hat or a scarf.

A fellow shopper and I laughed together as we watched our dark brown friend get lost in the maze of shelves.
"How strange!" I said to the man.
He smiled and continued to peruse the aisles.
But our feathered friend—
He made his way to the shopping carts
And danced among the wheels.

I followed him while I looked for someone in khakis and a red polo.
"Someone needs to know he's here," I thought.
And then I decided to shoo him myself.

I walked closely behind, herding him to the exit.
The double doors opened as we neared.
He took a few quick steps and spread his wings wide
To soar into the bright light of day.