He had 17 loaves of white bread

in his cart, along with six jugs of sweet tea

and large tub of cottage cheese.

–

She had a shower curtain and duct tape

and at the last moment,

added a Cadbury egg to her basket.

–

I exchanged pleasantries with the cashier-

something about how it’s almost Friday,

as if the moment wasn’t rife with possibility

of death by meteor or gluttony.

–

I remember bringing my child here

and feeling accomplished

when my cupboards were full;

I wonder if that feeling is lost for good

now that I know less about fulfillment

and more about never-ending questions.

–

A dark little bird flew in the rain

and I drove home between dotted lines

on a slick road with no guard rail.

Too cold for mushrooms,

I step lightly,

waking dirt below.

After removing flowers

and songs and sweet breads,

I was left with my own warped reading

of the laws of attraction.

Afternoons were cold

but not empty

as I dove into an angled prism

full of many shades of silvery-grey.

The puddle is disturbed, rippling

and I don’t want to wait to see what’s left

when the reflection stops shimmering

–

Somewhere in a place I can’t see

overhead, a dark bird squawks

– maybe a warning, or a mocking cry

–

There’s something threatening to spill out

so I close my mouth and rub my eyes

in vain, hoping worry will fade like wind

–

We’ve been here before

yet the volume remains unexpected

and the view indiscernible