by | May 7, 2017


we enter separately


straight into the produce department

compete for the freshest Honeycrisps

thump the cantaloupes

listening for the right kind of echo

the right kind of response

“Yes, I think this one harmonizes.”


Squaring myself, I clench the cart

march through the baked goods

while sourdough and buttercream

bark and snap like chained dogs


I walk softly among the meat cases

silently pray and apologize

to all the dead salmon, cows, pigs and foul

before placing a package of turkey sausages

into a wispy plastic bag


dodging an errant toddler

an escaped gummie stuck to the wheel

makes the cart drift to the left

tink tink tink

bulbs flicker on lane eight

where I contemplate the rising cost of cat litter


aisle by aisle

hungry and daydreaming

finally re-communing  in lines

to pay the price

for feasting


Copyright Cynthia Berg 2017


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