Freddy’s Dresser?

In my left hand pocket,
a birthday card from 1923
found in a dresser drawer
at an antique store,
addressed to “Freddy”
on his fourteenth birthday:
September 3rd, 1923.
Why did Freddy 
leave this card from
“Aunt Sarah” behind?
How did it come to be
in the drawer?
Was it left here
by Freddy, never delivered
by Aunt Sara, put here
by a shopper playing a trick
on unsuspecting me
in particular, or
was it randomly placed?

Is anything
randomly placed?

I think about that
on the way home as I play
an old song in the car.

No, not that one.

I don’t know what this poem
has to say
that hasn’t been said before,
over and over, 
by better poets.

I just know
I had to say it
again:

is anything random?
After all it is the third of September
and it’s a day
I will likely not forget
because there’s a song about that, too.