The lady at the five and dime
had that flustered
too long a line, can't keep up,
damned wrinkled bar code
look about her
and I wondered what put her here.

Mid thirties, comely, neat and clean
but a beat down look
that gave way only to
a next customer cursory smile.

What was inside the expressionless
job keeping hello and thank you?
Two more before I was asked;
Paper or plastic?

One bitched about the price of soap,
rich with indignation
and the need for his purchase.

Two wanted to write a check
twenty dollars more than the purchase.

Manager to checkout six.

I didn't mind
because I still wondered
why she was here.
What put her here?

Too many mouths to feed?
No education?
Husband out of work?
No personal drive?

I took plastic
(for walking the dog)

I forgot about her
soon after I left the store
and wished I didn't have to shop
at the five and dime.