At the Checkout Stand

I masked up and went to the grocery store.  It had been three months of home delivery.  Now I was on my own.  I went early and social distanced most of the time.

There was lots of produce and salad dressings.   Flour,  not so much.  Yeast, no way, but still hopeful.  There was bleach and a few hand soaps.  Alcohol on the bottom shelf, way in the back.  You had to bend over to see it.  Plenty of eggs and cheese and milk.  A few boxes left with Aunt Jemima still pictured with perfect pancakes.

The checkout clerk wore a mask and asked me if I had found everything I needed.  I hesitated; she waited for the answer.  “Do you think we will ever have yeast again?”          I asked through my mask.  She thought I said, “Do you think we will ever have peace again?” She replied and finished with “only if people will do the right thing.”

trust the food supply

find more even in a siege

in summer we feast

 

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dVerse haibun prompt on a shining moment

 

 

At the Checkout Stand

Fill the Day

Fill the day

with discernment

new language

& the Spirit

create a spa

for the mind

& the skin

purification

of the pores

& receptors

of the brain

take in the sun rays

& maniacal rains

stand under heavens

& weepingly smile

My God

 

 

 

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deVerse quadrille on the word fill

Fill the Day

I Saw My Mother Dying

I saw my mother dying

Can recognize when someone is about to give up life

“That’s life” an old woman says at the library when the copy machine won’t copy

“That’s death” I say to myself

in between is limbo

Her strong bones frail now

meds keep her under

she wants more

skin pocked with injections

she doesn’t want to know me

what’s the point

she is dying

it can happen to anyone

at anytime

you don’t have to be old to die

I Saw My Mother Dying

How to Bury a Warrior

Protected

this stronghold only one entrance

Chochise guarded his people

against the enemy

Creek running through

dried venison plants cactus flour

fit for survival and escape

over the ridge into the mountains

US military made peace

gave Chochise his stronghold

as a reservation and let him be

to live out his days

Chochise died and buried there

wrapped in a red blanket

vermillon design on his face

he rode for the last time

Up the ragged wall of the hold

on his horse while being held up

by his beloved followers

to a place high on the ridge

Procession of his final journey

horse and dog and rifles

all dropped deep into a gorge

Chochise’s great warrior burial

Father leader friend peacemaker

lowered into that same gorge

buried into the heart chasm

of his homeland

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NaPoWriMo prompt – how to poem

Chochise Stronghold is in the state of Arizona

How to Bury a Warrior