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.


4 comments:

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

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

    Mona Lisa

    ReplyDelete
  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...

    Smile,
    Han

    ReplyDelete

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