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.