Poem for a Moment in the Supermarket

She looked lost this week,

scanning food, bagging, without

recognition… I 

wanted to clutch her

bent shoulders and pull her out

into the normal

I knew for her.  I

tried.  She did not know me, though

we’ve often exchanged

words about our cart,

my pregnancy, the baby,

my husband’s Asian

heritage and hers. 

I smiled, spoke and was ready

to meet her eyes, but 

I stopped short before

breaking into her world with

“Are you OK?” though

I could’ve, should’ve

maybe.  At least I send her

thankful, hopeful thoughts

until next week, when

I’ll unload my cart again 

and see if all’s well.