Woman In Line At the Grocery Store
"I have become like a bird alone
on the roof." (Ps. 102:7b)
She is not fine. On the
counter lies a frozen dinner,
bottle of wine, french bread: she
drops them carelessly, and
She waits, but she is not fine.
Memories well in her mind as her
hands wrap and unwrap the strap
of her Vuitton purse clutched in
hand, a hand that doesn't know
where to rest, what to do, here
among the ruins, a bird alone.
No, she is not fine, but
blighted and withered like
grass, with no one to carry
her burden, in line like
everyone else but without
hope, with nothing but the finely-
manicured shell of her life.
She is not fine, but