Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Senior Discount

I want to grow old with you.
Old, old.

 So old we pad through the supermarket
using the shopping cart as a cane that steadies us.

 I’ll wait at register two in my green sweater
with threadbare elbows, smiling
because you’ve forgotten the bag of day-old pastries.

 The cashier will tell me a joke about barbers as I wait.
He repeats the first line three times
but the only word I understand is barber.

 Over the years we’ve caught inklings
of our shrinking frames and hunched spines.

 You’re a little confused
looking for me at the wrong register with a bag
of almost-stale croissants clenched in your hand.

 The first time I held your hand it felt enormous in my own.
Sasquatch, I teased you, a million years ago.

 Over here, I yell, but not in a mad way.

 We’re laughing.
You have a bright yellow pin on your coat that says, Shalom!

 Senior Discount, you say.
But the cashier already knows us.
We’re everyone’s favourite customers.


  1. I love this too...growing old together, being comfortable with it, ....the best is yet to be.
    hugs abby

  2. Lovely poem, Han..
    Senior discount...

    Mona Lisa

  3. "We’re everyone’s favourite customers", I think that says it all. As much as I cherish young love, old love is so wonderful to see as well. Everbody knows a couple like that...



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