a new poem-
and I won the caption contest over at Avoiding the Muse scroll down to Wed March 5
She takes her groceries from the car
to the kitchen, where space can be made
for all her burdens, there is a place for each
can of dark red kidney beans,
stewed tomatoes, she has a plan:
maybe chili or soup, ingredients
got cheap because the weather warms,
to be put by until the price of gas drives
her to the pantry for stashed supplies.
With every trip in and out, she ponders
who it is that doesn't have to plan by price,
scout for bargains, anticipate trouble before
it comes, as sure as she measures each day
a paycheck meted out before it's earned.
Tomorrow she'll tally minutes into dollars,
how long to mop, to dust, ashamed to covet
the snap of sweet-smelling sheets, fresh
clean towels, the work she does for strangers.
She knows all about them, what food they eat;
takes small comfort in thinking them sad-
and for that slice of time, all they have
is hers, no matter what she left at home.