I was in Shaw’s to buy veggie burgers,

making my way down the winding aisles

of chips and sodas, pet foods, cans and jars

and bags of this and that. I’d been annoyed

by the heat, the traffic delay on Route 

17, the new medicine added

this week to my list, because I’m growing

old. I thought of that boy in the cave who 

speaks 5 languages, told them what to bring.

A boy—at 14 more grown up than I—

without a country, and every day I

complain of mine. In the Times—his thin

face peering through the gloom. I bought my

veggie burgers, and drove the 6 miles home.

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