September 5, 2023

still life in aisle 3

When we run into each other, Paul is holding two glass bottles of kombucha.
In my cart, a bag of raisin bran and two heirloom tomatoes. ”How are you?” 
we ask, then find ourselves parked in the aisle next to the dried beans 
and boxed mac and cheese, to catch up. Paul bears a new softness, 
and I wonder if the kombucha is the source. He tells me I look good, 
and I wonder if it’s the tomatoes. But soon, we’re traveling in deeper waters,
which is to say we get to the part where Paul tells me he’s worried about
his upcoming heart procedure, and I tell Paul I wish my father were alive
so I could show him where I live. When we hug goodbye, Paul’s face looks
pink and open as a newborn’s, and my heart feels wider than yesterday.