The picture is my good morning "selfie" to Matt from work. :-)
Day 2 with the PAD Challenge at Poetic Asides. The prompt is to "write a secret poem. The poem itself could be a secret, or it could be about keeping secrets or, I suppose, not keeping them. Or maybe it’s about a top secret project, or the poem is a riddle with some sort of secret meaning. Or, well, I’ll let you figure out how best to poem secretively."
Paul in the Grocery Store Line
Parsing through the letter to the church at Ephesus
from Paul, I pull on the tail of each sentence,
unraveling words, loop over loop.
Right at the start, he hails the Ephesians as
faithful and holy and I wonder at that.
What did it look like?
Did they love each other particularly well? Were
they especially kind? Did people in the
marketplace see them as different?
I imagine Paul standing behind me yesterday in
the grocery store line, secretly watching,
pen and paper ready.
Early morning and only one register open,
my least favorite cashier working -
thick knuckles, pale spotted hands. No real reason
to dislike her except she always harangues
me to link my purchases
to a local school so the kids can get a few
extra pennies to buy books or lab
equipment or whatever.
I don’t know why, but I always tell her firmly, “No, thank you.”
and she gives me a look that says I must eat babies
with my breakfast cereal.
It is irrational and hateful - I know this.
I feel meanness rise in the
back of my throat,
heating the sides of my face, burning the tips of
my ears. I see Paul look away, and with
a sigh places his pen slowly
into his shirt pocket, tucks his pad of paper away –
no faithful and holy words
describing me today.
(The lady is real and I am really this mean. Forgive, Lord.)