Susan

I have stood in this lineup

countless times, 

counting 

and recounting items 

in the red plastic basket,

making chitchat with cashiers,

harping about politicians,

whining about the weather;

some are cheerleader types,

some cheeky,

some have zero cheer;

I steer my cart clear of those

and find the one

whose light is always on,

a beacon to the burdened

with a sympathetic ear,

the one who knows my name

but still she calls me Dear;

she works hard 

for the pittance she's paid,

is, herself, double bagged 

by the end of the day

but from where I stand,

she is the best source

of loyalty, rewards,

hands down

and I can count on her,

to fill me up 

with good things:

encouraging words,

gifts of thoughtfulness,

warmest of hugs;

her name tag reads: Susan

which means lily,

a tall fragrant bloom

and that she is,

standing out 

like a bouquet

in a lackluster room;

as friends go,

and they do,

she is more

than I bargained for

when I entered her queue     

---

October 6, 2017