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A Poem.

January 16, 2013

A Family Missing Heir

I stood quietly in a supermarket line

that quickly stacked back into aisle six –

and as I stood and waited for the line to move up,

so I could pay for my food and walk back to my home,

the clerk ran away to grab a customer a bottle of wine from the shelf.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered with stress in time –

“No you won’t,” the man behind me with a six pack of beer

– who smelled like whiskey joked –

“Don’t lie. You’ll never be back.”

Those in line, so diverse, waited silently and all smiled, connecting eyes.

“You thought I’d quit, didn’t you?” the teller joked when he returned,

and the line softly laughed like a community of prayer, a family missing heir.

Soon after I thought, How hungry we are as a human race to laugh and love,

that this moment of inconvenience for everyone involved, resulted in an unspoken bond;

and it was all sparked with a joke from a drunk and a laugh from a clerk.

But soon time ticked on, and the clerk was held up

by the same guilty-looking customer who tried to buy the wrong wine,

and the smiles were wiped away,

and impatience was built.

And soon after, I thought, How hungry we are as a human race

to get what we need and be on our own way.

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